Star Trek: 3000
by Jade-Rose
Summary: Set at the turn of the next millennium, this is the story of one of the starships sent to explore the Andromeda galaxy. Updated with Chapter 15: The League of Trinilon, Part Four.
1. 677000

_Author's General Note: I used to answer any questions and points raised by reviewers in an Author's Note at the beginning of the next chapter I uploaded, but since that's not allowed anymore, if there's anything you want answered, just drop me a PM or email._

_Author's Note: This is a story that I found when going through a disk I had forgotten about. "Star Trek: 3000" was intended to be a series of stories, charting the mission of the crew of the USS Genesis Millennia in Andromeda, but, as is habit with me, I got other ideas into my head, and went off to write those, and this got forgotten. If you include when I started this story, I've been writing it on and off for a few years now, but I'm making an effort to get it finished (sometime before the year 3000 actually occurs). _

_This is very much a WIP - I welcome constructive criticism and suggestions!_

* * *

**STAR TREK: 3000**

Funny what a difference a few days could make. Christmas already seemed to be a distant memory when confronted with the air of madness New Year conjured up. People could be forgiven this time though, for the beginning of this year was no ordinary celebration; this year also marked the turn of a century. And even that was insignificant when compared to the fact that it was also a transition to the next millennium. The dawn of a new age, the threshold of the future and any other number of phrases that had been bandied about recently. Or, if you believed the doomsayers, the end was nigh. Personally, Captain Jordan Hurst hoped that it wasn't. He had too much to live for at the moment for some sort of Armageddon to get in the way. He hurried past groups of people on their way to various parties, hoping that he wasn't going to get held up. He was already late for the special celebrations that were being put on by Starfleet. As he took the turbolift up to the floor where the party was being held, he mused that it didn't really matter that he was late; most of the world had already entered the 31st century. Nevertheless, this was an important function with important people, one of whom was himself. He had been chosen to captain one of the starships in a fleet dedicated to a special two year mission that had been commissioned in part to celebrate the so-called 'New Era' – which it was, from the point of space exploration at the very least.

Although the technology had been known about for several centuries, it had only been in the past few decades that the final perfections had been made to make transwarp a viable tool for the Federation. Transwarp was basically the ability to take a ship to infinite velocity. At infinite velocity, a person would inhabit every space in the universe simultaneously, meaning that in theory, they could go anywhere more or less instantly. Anywhere in the universe. Of course theories were one thing and reality another hence why it had taken so long to enable the technology to be fitted to starships. Now it was, the possibilities were enormous. The Federation was on the brink of a revolution, one that would fundamentally change many things and perhaps even push civilizations to whole new levels. Hurst and the others selected for the Millennium Mission would be at the forefront of the revolution, taking the Federation's first steps where once no one thought possible.

For years, the Federation had planned a mission to the nearby M31 galaxy, which was better known as Andromeda. The trip had been a certainty ever since it was known that transwarp would become reality. And now the time had come to see the dream come true. January 1 3000 would be one of history's cornerstones as a fleet of ten ships would be launched on the first day of the new millennium to symbolise the new era. These ships would proceed to the Andromeda galaxy, the biggest neighbour of the Milky Way. Two million light years in a few seconds. Once there, the ships would be given a designated course and begin to map one of the outer arms, gradually working inwards. Hurst wondered how long Andromeda would actually be explored for, especially given that it was bigger than the Milky Way. Earth spacecraft had explored the Milky Way for just over a thousand years, and even with the shared information the Federation possessed, it was still nowhere near fully charted. Some critics said that Starfleet should be concerned with 'home' rather than darting off to distant places like over-excited children. But perhaps that was the nature of intelligent beings – after all, in the days when scientists were just beginning to explore the solar system, for several years more was known about other planets than Earth's own moon. Plus, technology and knowledge were infinitely superior to the 20th century with its clunky probes, dangerous shuttles and primitive science. Information was collected and processed at a far greater speed in 2999.

Hurst arrived at the Starfleet function, hoping that he hadn't been missed. He was only late by ten minutes or so, but even that was enough to have some senior personnel tut-tutting. He was used to criticism, especially of late. Although this would not be his first time in command and many thought that his experience of captaining missions to the Delta and Gamma quadrants scouting unknown regions near the galactic rim, made him an ideal candidate to lead one of the Millennium Mission ships, there had been some argument due to his age. Still only in his mid-thirties, Hurst was one of the younger captains in Starfleet, having been promoted to the rank aged thirty-two. He'd had to haul himself there - as he'd known he would - but he did it. Some in Starfleet Command felt that it had been audacious of Hurst to put himself forwards for the Millennium Mission, being a young captain with barely any time under his belt. They had argued that it was madness to allow a promising commanding officer to scuttle off on such a dangerous, unknown mission. However, others argued that by having a younger captain aboard the mission, there would be a representation of the 'youth factor', somebody who could truly represent the 'New Era' mantra that was being pushed at the time. Fortunately for Hurst, the latter argument won out and here he was – and more than ready to prove his doubters wrong, as he had done many times in his career to date.

Hundreds of Starfleet officers in dress uniform milled about the Observation Lounge in front of Hurst, some part of the mission, some not. After managing to slip in unnoticed at first, one of the admirals soon caught sight of him.

"Glad to see you, Jordan. It's nice to catch you before you go. There are less than twenty four hours left to the start of the Millennium Mission. Nervous?"

"About as nervous as anyone else involved is, sir," replied Hurst, politely. "I've been busy lately making final checks on the crew and the layout of the ship. I don't want to be two days into the mission and not know where anything is." Admiral Derry laughed.

"Now, I know you'll be fine. You have one of the newest ships to command, and a very good mix of crew. I almost wish I was going with you." A wistful look flickered on his face and was then gone.

"You're always welcome," said Hurst. The admiral smiled, and the two drifted apart. Hurst always spent hours going over his crew manifests and ship schematics before each new mission he commanded. It helped to get rid of the knot of nerves in his stomach. In this case, it was a rather large knot that still hadn't gone away properly. It probably wouldn't until he was safely in Andromeda. He decided to get a drink to help him relax and find some of his crew. Given the special nature of the Millennium Mission, Hurst had already met each member of crew several times during the past few months. All the captains had been required to do so in order to get a general idea of their subordinates. This had been most important with regards to the senior staff, particularly the immediate bridge officers. It allowed a captain to make changes and even request that an officer should or shouldn't be on their ship. Hurst had been sure to organise a couple of social gatherings to get at least some of his officers to know each other – and himself - a little. He collected his drink from the Andorian bartender and took a sip as he scanned the room for members of his ship. Somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw Richard Wheeler, the man who was to be his first officer. Wheeler was one member of crew whom Hurst had no need to get to know better. They had been together at the Academy and were good friends. They had even served on the same ship after they had first graduated. Wheeler grinned at him.

"So, Jordan. Not long to go now. How are you feeling?"

"Rick, that's the second time someone has asked me that in about five minutes," Hurst replied.

"And I bet it won't be the last tonight," Wheeler said.

"Probably not."

"It's just the atmosphere of the whole thing. We know that a lot is riding on this," Wheeler said, noting that his glass was almost empty. He turned to the bar to get someone's attention. Hurst nodded.

"It doesn't seem real somehow. In astronomical terms Andromeda is our neighbour but…it's another galaxy."

"Another galaxy that's got a whole lot closer," Wheeler said. "Heck, the whole universe is in the palm of our hand now."

"One thing at a time," Hurst gently chided his friend as he ordered another drink.

"In two years time we'll be back from Andromeda and being sent off to another galaxy, maybe one which isn't even in the Local Group," Wheeler said with certainty.

"We'll see. I want to concentrate on this mission first," Hurst replied, with a laugh.

"Oh, sure. It'll be great serving with you again, at any rate," Wheeler said.

"Fitting somehow, isn't it?" Hurst smiled.

"I can't think of a better way to make history," Wheeler said. He took a sip of his drink and looked around the room. "Though what a way to see in the new millennium."

"What do you mean?"

"We're at a Starfleet party, Jordan! We should be in a bar downtown with all the normal people," Wheeler said, gesturing out of the window with his free hand. Hurst nodded.

"The downside to being in the position we are today, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, too bad. There's a few good things going on tonight," Wheeler said, regretfully.

"Just as well you're here then, else we'd have to leave without you," Hurst jibed. Wheeler laughed.

"No chance, Jord. No chance." They stood in a companionable silence watching others enjoy the party. Suddenly Wheeler put his drink back on the bar.

"Excuse me Jordan. I've got something to sort out." He disappeared after a female Lieutenant Commander.

"Not another bust-up, Rick," Hurst groaned to himself. When it came to women, Wheeler never gave up. In all the years Hurst had known him, he'd never changed in that aspect.

The rest of the evening passed at a steady rate as people discussed a mixture of casual matters and the forthcoming mission. Now that the clock was not far from midnight, the room began to hush a little. Hundreds of people had spilled out onto the huge lawn which bordered with a main road that led to a large square which was the centre of San Francisco, the home of Starfleet for nearly all of its existence. Everywhere seemed to be seething with people. Hurst was standing alone on a balcony above the lawn, happy to quietly observe. He had seen most of his crew throughout the evening, and was glad to have been able to give some last minute words of encouragement. Nearly everyone was nervous, but it was an excited trepidation, the kind that would be channelled in a positive way. Someone walked by with a tray of champagne-filled flutes and offered Hurst one. He took it with a nod and a smile before turning back to the scene below him. He found it interesting at the amount of aliens in the crowd. This event, celebrating the beginning of a year on Earth was irrelevant to the majority of them yet they still chose to take part. Even some of the Vulcans had got into the spirit of things. He glanced down at his watch – a proper 'old fashioned' one, not a chronometer – and noted that the final few seconds of the 30th century were ticking away. Sure enough, the chimes of the large clock in the square down the road began; one, two, three… It became difficult to hear the rest as the whole world seemed to erupt into noise as cheering and fireworks intermingled. Hurst raised his glass and toasted to no one in particular.

"Goodbye 2999, hello 3000," he muttered. He took a sip of the champagne, thinking about how he should begin to make his way home. Some people could afford to party all night; however he needed to get a good night's sleep. He gulped down the rest of the champagne and left the balcony. He came across Wheeler again, who wasn't alone. But it wasn't the female Lieutenant Commander who accompanied him; instead a petite Trill had her arm around his waist.

"Going home?" Wheeler asked, jovially.

"Yes. I think you should do the same," Hurst replied.

"Oh, I'm not having a late night here," Wheeler grinned, indicating the Trill with a nod of his head. Hurst just looked at him. Wheeler laughed.

"A bit of fun, Jordan. For all we know we might be victims of one of the umpteen things that could possibly go wrong with the transwarp drive."

"Honestly, Rick."

"Now, you know me. I'll be fine. Don't give yourself something else to worry about," Rick said.

"Yeah, I know you," Hurst replied, silently wondering how on Earth his friend expected to survive their mission. He knew that Wheeler genuinely loved his career for space exploration, but sometimes Hurst couldn't help but think Wheeler used his uniform in order to put notches up his bedpost.

"I'll see you later today then," he said.

"Eh? Oh…yeah, it is, isn't it?" Wheeler replied. "Happy new year."

"You too," Hurst said, smiling at Wheeler and the little blonde Trill who had kept out of the conversation. They went their separate ways. Hurst pushed his way through the crowds, occasionally being kissed by women wishing him either a happy new year or century or whatever. He wasn't paying too much attention. As far as he was concerned, the evening was over and now he should be looking forward to the journey ahead. He stepped outside the building and took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. It was a clear night and the moon was half full. He could make out some of the colony there. Funny bunch, the moon-dwellers. Fiercely defensive of their home, yet they knew that however much noise they made about being independent, they were tied to Earth. Then again, they were positively genteel compared to some of Earth's more distant colonies. The effects of reaching out into space. There were human beings out there who had never even been to Earth, instead living on other planets or spending all of their time in space. Much like himself. Hurst had been born on Earth and lived there for several years, but for most of his life he had been touring the galaxy with his parents. Was Earth deserving of being called 'home' for him? If not, then what was? Space? But that applied to something so vast it was a generalisation and not a specific answer. And what if there were one day colonies established in completely separate galaxies? They would be thousands, millions even billions, of light years away. How would they identify with Earth or the Federation? He berated himself for allowing his thoughts to get too philosophical. He should go to his apartment, get a good night's sleep and leave that sort of thing to other people to decide. With a last glance at the moon, Hurst began the twenty minute walk to where he stayed.

* * *

The first day of the new millennium was appropriately beautiful for the new era it ushered in. Hurst had nothing really left to do but enjoy it. He had sorted out his belongings last week and had made the appropriate arrangements for his apartment to be looked after whilst he was away. He had just finished speaking to his parents who were on the other side of the continent. His mother in particular had wished she could have seen him in person but understood that as a captain, her son had priorities elsewhere. His father, once a Starfleet officer himself before deciding that his interests lay in the diplomatic standoffs rather than gaseous anomalies, was envious but looking forward to hearing all about it upon Hurst's return. Both of them were very proud of their only child, and Hurst imagined that the whole of the East Coast would know about it sooner or later, if they didn't already. He barely glanced at his apartment as he made sure he had his remaining belongings together – most had already been stowed on the ship or put in storage – and checked that the place was secure. It wasn't really his home. It was a place that Starfleet provided for him to stay between missions or occasionally when he was on leave and wasn't going elsewhere, and therefore Hurst didn't feel attached to it. He pulled the strap of one case onto his shoulder and picked up another smaller case in his hand. Then he exited the apartment. After dropping the key and list of assorted codes off at the reception office of the apartment block, he took a couple of steps towards the transporter pad, but then decided to walk. It was a nice day and the last time he might be on a planet for a while. Yes, there was the holosuite, but it wasn't the same no matter how closely it recreated something. He noted how clean the streets already were after last night's celebrations. The air seemed fresh. Everything seemed to have the tinge of newness to it. A clean slate of exploration was waiting to be filled in.

"Captain?"

"Lieutenant Beckett." Hurst acknowledged the younger man who appeared at his side, also laden with luggage.

"May I walk with you?"

"Of course – you are going to the Headquarters, I presume?"

"Yes. The sooner I can get rid of these, the better." Beckett indicated his cases.

"You could have beamed over."

"I know, sir, but I prefer walking. You miss a lot by just beaming everywhere – and I think it's lazy, if I'm honest," Beckett said.

"Yes, I know what you mean," Hurst replied. "I take it that you are up to speed with the ship?"

"I am, Captain. I've familiarised myself with all the weapons and sensors and the layout – I've even personally checked that there are the correct number of each type of torpedo in their respective banks."

"You have?"

"We're not going to be in a position to be able to go back and collect anything we've forgotten, Sir," Beckett replied.

"No, we're not," Hurst replied. From some people, that sort of attention to detail would have sounded almost anal. Beckett had to be thorough – he was Hurst's chief of security – but he was of a fairly easygoing disposition and that took the edge off any nitpicking he had to do.

"Everything is in place but I'm going to do a final systems check, just in case," Beckett said.

"Good. Find Lieutenant Truman and Ensign Tay and have them run checks too so that everything is done at the same time," Hurst said. "I know that we'll do checks before we actually leave but I'd rather find any gremlins before that."

"Yes, sir. I'm looking forward to being able to set off," Beckett said.

"As am I, Lieutenant. We haven't long now," Hurst replied. They continued to make small talk until they reached the headquarters. Neither officer had seen the place so busy. They made their way over to the building from which they would transport away from the planet. Here, those that were a part of the Millennium Mission would go through an initial 'check in' process before beaming up to the huge space station in Earth's orbit. The two officers looked around. Once they beamed up, they wouldn't be allowed back down.

"Any further business to attend to here, Ewan?" Hurst asked.

"None, Captain. All my remaining tasks are on the ship," Beckett replied.

"I suggest you beam up now and make a start. I will see you soon," Hurst said. Beckett nodded in acknowledgement and made his way to where everyone was processed. Hurst went over to a different area.

"Captain Jordan Hurst," he said the person behind the desk. He was given a panel to place his hand on for a palm print and DNA scan. A moment later the scanner confirmed he was who he claimed to be. The android behind the desk was also programmed to recognise the voices of the various captains of the fleet.

"Captain Hurst. Here are your final instructions." Hurst was handed a padd.

"Thank you. Could you tell me how many members of my crew have already beamed up to the station?"

"Forty-nine," the android replied almost instantly.

"Thank you," Hurst said. Just under half of his crew. The rest should follow shortly.

"Good luck on your mission, Sir," the android said.

"Thank you," Hurst said again. He glanced at the padd. He would read it once he was on the space station. He took a last look around, squared his shoulders and walked through to join the queue. Commander Wheeler was already there, having his case scanned. He acknowledged his captain with a cheery wave, something which wouldn't normally be a standard Starfleet protocol. Hurst raised his hand in reply. Wheeler waited whilst Hurst had his identity verified again and went through the various security checks. Hurst noticed that Wheeler seemed none the worse for wear, which he knew he shouldn't be surprised at. Wheeler could manage to hide all but the most awful hangovers.

"That little friend of yours from last night not here to wave you off?" Hurst asked. Wheeler chuckled.

"No. She's not part of this mission, so she's got other things to do."

"Ah. Should have known. No strings."

"Now you can't talk. I remember a certain Ensign Charia…"

"That was a long time ago."

"Too long, Jordan."

"I'm a captain now, Rick."

"Doesn't mean that you have to turn into a monk," Wheeler said. "That's for the old crusty captains to do. You're still young."

"Well I can afford to wait then," Hurst said. This conversation was nothing new. "And so can you," he added.

"I'll behave myself…unless the right lady is on board of course," Wheeler grinned. Hurst gave him a look.

"You never know, there might be a right lady for you too," Wheeler pressed.

"Even if there is, it wouldn't be appropriate…"

"For you to do anything about it, because you think that captains shouldn't get involved with subordinates," Wheeler interrupted.

"Yeah, and you know perfectly well why I think that," said Hurst, shortly. Wheeler grinned and punched his friend lightly on the arm.

"Ah well, there's always You Know Who, but you know what I think of her."

"Yes, I do, and the feeling's still mutual on her part as far as I know," Hurst said. Wheeler was about to latch onto the fact that Hurst hadn't dismissed his suggestion out of hand, but the conversation came to an end as they reached the transporter area. They waited their turn before stepping onto a pad each along with several others. Starfleet Headquarters disappeared before their eyes and a twinkling of an eye later, the transporter room of the space station appeared as they re-materialised. As they left the transporter room, Hurst actually felt the first tinges of real excitement rather than pure nerves or being preoccupied with the finer details of matters. The space station was a beautiful structure called Horizon that had replaced the Spacedock in the 27th century. It was just as busy up here as the headquarters had been. Out of the large windows, Earth could be seen, looking its usual peaceful self.

"Are you going up to the ship?" Hurst asked his first officer.

"Yes. I'm not walking around with this case like an idiot," Wheeler said. They made their way over to a turbolift.

"Docking platform A," Hurst ordered. A few seconds later the doors hissed open and they stepped out. They were at the top of the station. At the centre was a small glass dome, where you could peer down to the lower levels if you had the stomach for it. Ten of the twenty docking ports of the upper platform were occupied by new ships – the Millennium Mission fleet. Hurst knew exactly which gate his was docked at and set off for it, Wheeler still in tow. He was careful not to rush too much. He wanted to look at the ship as if it were for the first time again. He knew it was a childish thing, but this command, this ship, was something special. It was the culmination of years of hard work and the realisation of a dream and he was determined to relish every moment. They entered the lounge area of port number four, Hurst nodding acknowledgement of some crew members that passed by. He allowed himself to look out of the large window. The ship was too close to be able to see all of her, but he could still see the perfect, sleek creamy hull that was not yet damaged or dirtied through wear and tear. For a moment, he was the twenty-one year old ensign back in the observation lounge. However, this time he did not see the USS _Innovation_ in front of him. He couldn't see the name of the ship from where he was, but he didn't need to. He knew it perfectly.

USS _Genesis Millennia_. Registration NCC-3000-04. His ship.

"Pretty sweet, isn't she?" Wheeler said, interrupting his thoughts.

"She looks it. I hope she acts it, too," Hurst replied, though he knew instinctively that she wouldn't be any trouble.

"Well, shall we go aboard?"

"I think we shall, Commander."


	2. The Mission Begins

A short while later, everyone was assembled in the lounge of the docking bay. It was time for Hurst to make a speech to the crew before they all boarded for the last time before the start of their journey. All one hundred and eighteen crew members were seated or standing expectantly as they watched their captain move to the front of them, his first officer standing a respectful distance to the side. Hurst looked at the assembled people in front of him. The size of crew was a little above average for modern times, but this would be an exceptional mission. It would be the largest crew Hurst had commanded to date. Over a hundred people all looking towards him for guidance, reassurance and to keep them safe. It would be a challenge, but one that Hurst found himself looking forward to. Getting to Andromeda would be the riskiest part of the mission - once there their progress could be mundane or difficult, nobody had any way of knowing. Everyone that was a part of the Millennium Mission knew the risks though. They had all volunteered for the assignment – such was the nature of the mission that Starfleet was not going to force anyone to take it up. The majority of people were single or did not have young children. Hurst mused that perhaps that was why Wheeler seemed to be pushing a certain matter. No strings.

"First off, let me wish all of you a happy new millennium," he began. "Personally, I can't think of a better way to remember such a date as to be on a mission like ours. I know that all of you have volunteered for this and been through a tough selection process. Those of you that have served under me before know that I am quick to give praise where it is due – but also that it must be earned. Starfleet has checked each of you for suitability, and having met each one of you, I am certain that you are all going to make a contribution to an excellent crew.

"We are about to undertake a serious mission. I hope that each of you have prepared yourselves properly for it as once we've reached Andromeda, we'll be staying there for two years. It's not a long time compared to some missions, but it is another galaxy and therefore the risks are that much greater. However, the rewards... The rewards are those that come with exploring the unknown – new places, new peoples, gaining a different perspective on the universe and ourselves. I can't speak for anybody else in this room, but I feel proud not only to be continuing Starfleet's great tradition but also to be pushing it onto the next level. We all know what this mission means to the wider Federation community as well as Starfleet – after decades of infighting and decline and somewhere along the way losing sight of the core values upon which the Federation was founded. It's taken years of hard work to turn things around, and for some, the Millennium Mission is a sign of the restoration of Starfleet and the Federation to their glory days.

"Whilst we'll be working with our nine sister ships to achieve the mission's wider aims, we'll also be very much alone – and I'm sure very eager to prove ourselves against our fellow crews." More than a few sniggers could be heard at this. Hurst allowed himself to smile. "You're dismissed. You have half an hour to deal with any last minute business here. I want everyone on board and at their stations ready to go. Our ship is not going to be the one holding things up."

He watched as the crew filed away, some straight back to the ship, some out into Horizon station.

"They seem a good lot," Wheeler commented.

"They should be," Hurst replied. "I'm going to give the ship a final inspection. You go to the bridge and begin preliminary launch checks. We're on countdown now."

"Aye Captain," Wheeler said, semi-seriously.

Satisfied that everything was ready to go, Hurst stepped onto the bridge and noted that a couple of faces were missing but as they were not late, it didn't matter much. Wheeler was chatting to Lieutenant Beckett but immediately ended the conversation when he saw Hurst.

"Preliminary checks all done and clear, Captain," he said.

"That's what I like to hear," Hurst said. He took a moment to look over the bridge towards the view screen. A compact but functional design, the bridge did indeed resemble the nerve centre it was supposed to be. Some might say that it seemed cramped compared to earlier starships, but Hurst didn't think so. Everyone was far enough apart to be able to work at their individual stations without distraction, but close enough to work together if need be without having to yell across the bridge. He took a couple of steps down to where the command station was and seated himself in the left hand chair. He brought up a panel and keyed in some commands that would activate certain functions of the ship and let Starfleet Mission Command know that he was on board and ready for action. Behind him, a pair of doors opened and the last two members of bridge crew entered. Both were ensigns.

"I'm pleased that you could join us," Hurst said lightly, watching as they went to their stations.

"I'm glad to be here, Captain," the female ensign said, her French-Canadian accent full of confidence.

"I'm glad you're here, Aimee," Wheeler said from across the bridge. She smiled at him.

"How about you, Barlis? Ready to go exploring?"

"Yes, Captain," the other ensign, a young Bajoran, replied. He looked the most nervous out of everyone present. Hurst didn't blame him. This was the first major mission that Tay Barlis had been placed on, so he was relatively inexperienced. However, he had shown ample ability in the few short assignments he had undertaken since leaving the Academy a few months ago and so Hurst was willing to take him on. He smiled at the ensign and was about to turn to another officer when the beep of an incoming communication took his attention.

"Hurst here."

"_Captain Hurst, Starfleet Mission Command. Have you received final instructions?_"

"Yes, I have. Final system checks are taking place now."

"_Will you be ready for launch on time?_"

"Affirmative."

"_Stand by for further instructions. Mission Command out_." Hurst turned to his immediate crew.

"Any problems to report?"

"No, sir," was the general reply to the question. One by one each station reported back that all systems were clear. The USS _Genesis Millennia_ was ready to go. Hurst sent the appropriate confirmation to Mission Command and sat back and waited. Wheeler came and sat in his own chair, tapping in a few command codes into his own console.

"Well, guess we sit back and enjoy the ride to EDS Two-Five," Wheeler said.

"It's a good opportunity to give the ship a run," Hurst replied, feeling a small wave of frustration building up. Now they were all ready to go, the final few minutes to the mission launch seemed to be slowed to hours. Eventually the communications system crackled to life.

"Attention Millennium Mission fleet. Launch will commence shortly. First of all, President J'Sare would like to speak to you." There was a pause and then the smooth, rich voice of the Federation President could be heard.

"I am sure that you are all anxious to be off on your voyage, so I will not keep you long," he began. "So I would like, on behalf of all Federation citizens to wish all members of the Millennium Mission a safe and enjoyable time exploring the Andromeda galaxy. I know that I am proud to preside over such a historical moment and am sure that you are equally, if not more, proud to be taking part. We here will look forward to your return and hearing what will no doubt be fascinating stories. Thank you." There was a silence. Nobody expected any great long speech from the Federation President. He came from a race that, like Vulcans, kept to the point.

"Horizon control is preparing to release docking clamps," Tay said, from his station at Ops.

"Stand by, Mr Orea," Hurst said to the hulking, feline-like man sat at the helm.

"Aye Captain," he replied. There was a slight bump and a distant, dull clunk as the clamps were released and the boarding walkway retracted.

"Clearance from control to leave Horizon," Orea said.

"Take us out of here," Hurst said.

"Following the USS _Requiro_ out of orbit and into solar system exit trajectory," Orea said, his paws skimming over the helm controls with surprising grace for a creature his size. Hurst put his attention on the view screen. A little to the left was the _Requiro_ and in front of her two other members of the fleet, looking smaller given that they were further ahead. Bright, colourful flashes of light could also be seen. They were 'space fireworks', a special concoction of gases that were designed to explode with a decorative but harmless bang. It was to this colourful display that the ten ships of the Millennium Mission fleet left Earth.

"The USS _Kismet_ is in position behind us," Tay said.

"Clearing Earth boundaries," Beckett said.

"Prepare to go to full impulse," Wheeler ordered Orea.

"Yes sir." A second later there was a barely audible increase in the hum of the ship's engines and the stars on the view screen moved past a little faster. Hurst settled back into his chair. There wasn't a lot more to do other than enjoy the journey. They travelled past Mars and then swung upwards out of the planetary plane and towards the edge of Earth's solar system. Once clear of the inner system, Orea took the ship up to sub-warp speed.

"Tay, can you get Earth on the view screen?" Hurst asked as they neared the very edge of the solar system. A moment later, a very small blue dot appeared on the screen.

"Well, guess we'll see Earth in a couple of years," Wheeler said.

"To think that a thousand years ago they were still struggling to explore the moon and get a probe to another planet," Hurst said.

"And maybe in another thousand years people will be looking back at us and wondering what our problems were," Wheeler replied with a grin. Hurst gave a small laugh and returned the view screen to the stars ahead.

"Let's keep looking forward at them," he said.

A couple of days passed by as the fleet made their way towards the station Extra Deep Space Twenty Five, the star base closest to the edge of the galaxy, and nicknamed the 'Last Outpost' because of its position. This would be the final stop and the last chance to make any quick repairs or trade. From there the fleet would finally make the journey to Andromeda. The decision had been made to make the journey from there for several reasons, one being that there was a small possibility of serious repercussions of using transwarp in a heavily populated area of space. The simulations had all said that it was okay to send ten ships over but it hadn't been tried for real yet. Hurst knew that some of the other captains were frustrated that they had this preliminary stop-start journey to go through – ships were not permitted to slipstream through certain sectors and therefore had to rely on standard warp in these areas - but personally he didn't mind. It gave his crew the chance to get to work together before Andromeda. So far they seemed to be starting to form the basis of a good team. Hurst knew that Wheeler would keep his promise to behave himself – despite all his talk he knew that when it came to the crunch, duty came first. Not that he stopped being flirtatious, particularly with Ensign Dupin. She didn't seem to mind the attention but seemed to be more interested in her work at the science station. For the time being though, Hurst took pride in learning about his ship. He already knew the layout from Bridge to Engineering but of course it was different now that she was actually in motion. Or so he told himself. He was in fairly high spirits by the time they began the approach to the Last Outpost, or EDS Two-Five.

"I'd hate to be assigned to an EDS station," Wheeler said.

"I wonder why?" Hurst replied. Wheeler merely grinned.

"It's like a big sign saying, 'You are now leaving the Federation'," Dupin said, commenting on the star base that was looming ever-larger on the view screen.

"More like, 'You're now leaving the galaxy'," Wheeler said.

"Please Drive Carefully," Beckett added from Tactical. A ripple of laughter went around the bridge.

"I'm sure Lieutenant Commander Orea will do just that," Hurst said.

"Of course," Orea said, clearly not entirely sure what the joke was, but not about to make an issue of it. Hurst chuckled to himself. The easy banter between himself and Wheeler seemed to have rubbed off on the rest of the bridge officers already. That was good; they were relaxed before the 'Big Jump' as someone called it.

"Receiving instructions from EDS Two-Five," Tay said, interrupting the moment. He suddenly looked a little confused.

"What is it, Ensign?" Hurst asked.

"They are asking us to dock," Tay said.

"What else would they be wanting us to do?" Hurst asked.

"No, sir. Not an orbital dock; actually physically dock at the starbase," Tay explained.

"But there's only room for two ships to do that," Hurst said. "Query the order." Tay sent a communication through and a few seconds later one returned from the starbase.

"We are to definitely physically dock with the station. One of the other ships will change places with us," Tay reported.

"Encoded message coming in for you, Captain," Beckett said. Hurst got to his feet, feeling somewhat bemused.

"Send it through to my ready room, Lieutenant," he said, half-noting that the rest of the bridge crew were also disquieted by the unusual order.

He didn't get much more from the message. It was from an Admiral Cooper. Hurst was uneasy as soon as he saw him; no admiral was stationed on the Last Outpost and certainly not this one. All that the admiral requested was that he and Commander Wheeler immediately come aboard as soon as _Genesis_ was safely docked.

"It's probably some sort of bureaucratic rubbish," Wheeler said.

"It's not rubbish if they fast-tracked Admiral Cooper out here," Hurst replied.

"Why, who is he?"

"He's part of Starfleet Intelligence," Hurst said.

"What do they want with us?" Wheeler asked.

"We're about to find out," Hurst said. All the exuberance he had felt over the past few days was rapidly diminishing. They reached the other end of the walkway and exited, only to be greeted by a Starfleet security team. For a moment both Hurst and Wheeler were speechless.

"Would somebody mind explaining what is going on here?" Hurst demanded. He got an indirect answer when a couple of the more burly men stepped forwards and took hold of Wheeler.

"Commander Richard Wheeler, we are taking you into custody as ordered by the Federation Security Council," one of them said.

"What?!" Wheeler managed to splutter.

"My first officer has not committed any crime," Hurst said.

"That is not what the evidence says, Captain," a voice said. "Take him to the holding cell." Before either officer could say anything else, Wheeler was hustled away down a corridor.

"Admiral Cooper," Hurst said.

"Come with me, Captain. I shall give you an explanation," Cooper said.

"Good, because I definitely would like one," Hurst replied. They went into a room, Cooper leaving a guard outside the door to make sure that they were not disturbed.

"Not long after you departed, evidence came to light linking Commander Wheeler with a weapons dealing ring that we have been investigating for a while now," Cooper began.

"Weapons dealing? With who?"

"Various unsavoury types. That is not of your concern. What matters is that Commander Wheeler's name has been given in a confession by a member of this ring we have uncovered, and furthermore, we have found other evidence of his involvement."

"Such as?"

"DNA traces, psyche imprints, other trace elements," Cooper answered.

"All pretty circumstantial then," Hurst replied.

"It's enough to have him questioned," Cooper said.

"Rick is not a criminal. He'd never knowingly betray Starfleet or the Federation."

"I've heard that phrase many times in my career, Captain, and ninety-nine percent of the time it turns out to be a false statement."

"I've known Rick since the Academy. He would never even think of doing anything like that."

"I believe that it's been a few years since you actually served together. Could you account for everything the commander has done in between?"

"Of course I can't," Hurst replied.

"So therefore how can you be so sure of his innocence?"

"Admiral, I can assure you that if I thought for a moment that Rick had been involved in something like weapons dealing, I wouldn't be protesting his innocence," Hurst said. Admiral Cooper's shoulders sagged a little.

"Jordan, I take no joy in doing this, especially now. But surely you understand that a matter as grave as this needs investigation. I cannot let Commander Wheeler proceed with you on your mission and then wait two years to deal with him," he said.

"If you question him now you'll know he's not involved," Hurst replied.

"Perhaps we will in time, Captain, but how do you explain something such as DNA traces?"

"He must have been set up."

"Do you have any evidence for that?"

"No, but I…"

"There you go then. We have evidence and we have to proceed in the appropriate way," Admiral Cooper said. There was a silence.

"What about the Millennium Mission?" Hurst asked.

"It will not be affected. We will take Commander Wheeler back to Earth to question him."

"He's my first officer!"

"No longer, Captain. His replacement should be arriving here shortly."

"Replacement?"

"Yes. You don't honestly expect the whole expedition to be put on hold whilst we take time to prove or disprove Commander Wheeler's innocence, do you?" Admiral Cooper's voice had just the right tone to make Hurst feel stupid.

"May I talk to him before you take him back to Earth?"

"Normally I would say no, but given that you know Commander Wheeler personally, I will allow you to do so," Cooper said. "After I have informed him fully of the charges."

"Fine. Thank you, sir," Hurst said. He was dismissed and was free to wander around the space station. He felt somewhere in between bewildered and furious. Rick Wheeler was many things but not a criminal. He wandered aimlessly at first, ignoring the other people who had beamed over to the star base. It would have been bad enough to have this news about any second-in-command, but Wheeler was his friend. How would he tell the crew? How would it affect them? They had been so buoyed and now this. He was relieved when Admiral Cooper contacted him to say that he was free to talk to Rick. He made his way to where Wheeler was being held.

"Guess you already know the details, eh?" Wheeler said, managing a watery smile.

"It stinks, Rick. I know you didn't do any such thing," Hurst replied. To his surprise, Wheeler looked almost relieved.

"Thanks."

"You didn't really think that I'd consider you guilty, did you?"

"Well, Admiral Cooper does," Wheeler said.

"Yeah, I know," Hurst said. "I don't understand where this so-called 'evidence' came from."

"I could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone saw a Starfleet officer and thought that it provided an opportunity," Wheeler said.

"You have no idea of who might want to frame you?"

"No one comes to mind. Not even an irate ex," Wheeler said with a small laugh. Hurst knew that the attempt at humour hid his real feelings.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to convince Admiral Cooper that you weren't involved with whatever this weapons dealing stuff is about," Hurst said.

"Don't worry about it. All I've got to do is adjust to seeing a cell wall instead of stars," Wheeler replied.

"If I didn't have to go on this mission, I'd find out who set you up and…"

"Maybe if I'm still locked up in two years time you can still try."

"Maybe I could try now," Hurst said, after a pause.

"What do you mean?"

"They're already sending your replacement. They can get one for me too," Hurst said. Wheeler shook his head.

"No. The crew will be rattled enough by my departure, never mind yours."

"They'll manage," Hurst said. Wheeler just laughed.

"Jordan. Don't be a hero for me. Save that for the crew of _Genesis_."

"But Rick…"

"For one of us not to go is bad, but for neither of us to go would be dismal," Wheeler said. Hurst was about to object further but then realised what Wheeler said and nodded his head.

"Okay. I won't resign from the mission."

"Good. So who's the lucky person taking my place?"

"Don't know, don't care. It was supposed to be you."

"Well, there were plenty of people pushing to get on this mission. Lots of people wanting a promotion, too," Wheeler said.

"I could do without someone like that," Hurst said.

"They might have gotten hold of one of those gorgeous Xanthren ladies for you," Wheeler said.

"There's some in Starfleet?" Hurst asked.

"Five," Wheeler replied. Of course he'd know something like that.

"Ah…I'll hope," Hurst replied. "I'll be more likely to be stuck with a crabby old guy who can't get beyond Commander."

"It's only two years," Wheeler said. "You'll be rid of them before you know it."

"Hopefully by that time all this will have been sorted out and you'll be free to make the return trip," Hurst said.

"Let's hope," Wheeler replied. Admiral Cooper appeared behind Hurst, and they knew it was time to go their separate ways.

"See you in two years, then," Hurst said.

"Yeah. Bring me back something nice," Wheeler replied.

"Hang in there. They'll soon realise you're innocent."

"We'll have an Erana beer when you return," Wheeler said.

"We will," Hurst replied. They smiled at each other and Admiral Cooper motioned that Hurst should leave. Hurst squared his shoulders and left the room. He knew that his friend was trying to put a brave face on things, as Rick always did, but what he was going through inside would probably challenge even his optimistic nature. His new first officer had better be something special. But before he met him or her, he had to inform the crew of Commander Wheeler's fate.

"Hurst to all senior staff. Please meet me in the bay where we are docked." The communication sent, he proceeded to go directly to the docking bay. It didn't take long for his senior officers to arrive.

"I'm sure you've all been wondering about the unusual circumstances of our arrival here," he began once they were all present. "Normally I would announce this to the whole crew, but our time is short here so I would like you to pass on the news to your staff. I must inform you that Commander Wheeler has been arrested by order of the Federation Security Council on suspicion of illegal weapons trading." He could almost feel the ripple of shock and surprise go through the assembled crew.

"It is an unfortunate event to happen just before we are due to carry out an important part of our mission, however I expect you to carry on with the same level of professionalism that I have already seen from you all. There will be a replacement officer for Commander Wheeler joining us shortly and I would like you to show them the courtesy that you would any first officer. Thank you." He didn't wait to see if there were any questions from his staff, instead leaving them in the bay, still somewhat open-mouthed.

"I didn't expect that," Beckett said.

"That's the craziest thing I've heard," Dupin said. "I couldn't see Commander Wheeler doing something like that."

"No smoke without fire," Lieutenant Truman said. Dupin turned to him.

"You don't honestly believe he did, do you?"

"We don't know what the evidence is," Truman replied mildly, in contrast to Dupin's heated tone.

"I don't need to see any evidence!" Dupin retorted. Lieutenant Commander Orea stepped in.

"There's no point in us falling out over this now. I think that the Captain needs our support and if we're fighting amongst ourselves, we can't give it," he said. As well as outranking the rest of them, Orea was also the second officer of _Genesis Millennia_ and the others subsided at his words.

"You're right," Beckett said. They all looked at each other, a crew that were familiar but not yet completely at ease with each other, and wondered what the coming hours would bring.


	3. The Mission Begins Part Two

He had received the communication that his new first officer had arrived. He couldn't really say that he was looking forward to this moment. He knew that he shouldn't feel resentment towards this person because it was hardly their fault that circumstances had turned out like they had, but it was difficult not to. This was supposed to have been his and Rick's mission. Wheeler had already begun the journey back to Earth and whatever fate awaited him there. It would be two years before Hurst knew what that would be. Meanwhile, he had to forget what might have been and concentrate on the future. He arrived at the room he had been told to go to and activated the door chime. To his surprise, he heard Admiral Cooper's voice telling him to come in. He thought that the admiral had gone back with Wheeler. Perhaps he would oversee this meeting and instead travel back on whatever vessel had brought the new first officer here. He took a breath and stepped into the room.

"Captain Hurst," Cooper acknowledged. He smiled at the person standing to his right, who turned to look fully at Hurst. A Vulcan. Not that there was anything wrong with that, just that one wouldn't have been high up his list.

"May I introduce you to Commander Ellenabi D'Zira? Ellenabi, this is Captain Jordan Hurst."

"I'm pleased to meet you, sir," she said, extending a hand to him. He took it, feeling sure that he had heard the name D'Zira somewhere before, but couldn't place it immediately.

"Likewise, Commander," was all he said. "I hope that the last minute notification hasn't inconvenienced you in any way."

"Not at all," she said, her calm gaze meeting his slightly frosty one and giving nothing away.

"Commander D'Zira was in the right place at the right time," Cooper said.

"I'm sure," Hurst said, noting that she had light brown hair, unusual for a Vulcan.

"This will be her first placement as executive officer," Cooper informed him.

"Really." Hurst felt his mood slip a little further. An inexperienced first officer. Was there anything else that wanted to throw a spanner in the works?

"I was promoted to the rank of Commander on star date 676691.8," she said, almost as if she had read his mind. He realised that he must be making his feelings a little too obvious.

"I wouldn't doubt that you have the credentials needed for this mission," he said, knowing that he should give her credit. She wouldn't have made the rank of commander for nothing. And being a Vulcan meant that she had brains.

"I'm sure that you will make a good team," Admiral Cooper said, almost as if he were afraid that Hurst was about to turn around and tell him to forget it. He looked at his chronometer.

"Well, I'm afraid I must leave you two alone to get to know each other. The jet leaves in a few minutes to take me to a rendezvous point with the USS _Gregarious_. I trust you have no further questions?"

"No, Admiral," D'Zira said. Hurst shook his head. The admiral bowed his head to the two officers and left. Hurst turned back to Commander D'Zira and knew that he should make the same effort he had instructed his crew to do.

"I've spent some time on Vulcan since the reintegration," he said. "But I assume that you'd be from one of the Displaced colonies?"

"Actually, I'm from Betazed, Captain. I am only half Vulcan," she replied. Hurst felt his eyebrows rise.

"I always thought that those species were incompatible," he said.

"Genetically they are not, obviously," she replied, indicating herself.

"Obviously," Hurst agreed. He managed a small smile. "And of course D'Zira is a Betazoid name, isn't it?"

"It is."

"And Ellenabi..?"

"Betazoid as well," she said, seeming to express some amusement. Despite his initial opinions, he couldn't help feeling intrigued by his new first officer. Despite her name, she seemed to be quite the traditional Vulcan in her mannerisms. Odd, considering that she was from Betazed, a planet and people about as opposite from Vulcan as you could get. She'd have her reasons, no doubt. Vulcan had had a turbulent history over the past couple of centuries, a period which it had gradually been recovering from during recent years. The period of recovery had been kick-started by Betazed, actually. Now that he thought about it…

"Was your father Japhen D'Zira?" Hurst asked, finally placing the name. She looked back at him, surprised.

"Yes, he was," she said after a pause. He saw that she was uncomfortable about the subject, which was hardly surprising.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine, Captain. You made a connection in your mind and wanted it verified," she replied. There was a silence.

"Well, I should give you a tour of the ship before we depart," Hurst said.

"I would appreciate that," D'Zira said. She let him lead the way.

"What do you know about the ship?" he said.

"The USS _Genesis Millennia_ is an Innovation-class starship," she replied without hesitation. "It is the fourth ship in the active Millennium Mission fleet. Like the other ships in the class, she has fourteen decks and the crew complement, including ourselves, is one hundred and twenty. Innovation-class starships are equipped with standard impulse, standard hybrid warp-slipstream and quantum transwarp drives. They are easily the most advanced starships the Federation possess at the moment."

"Very good," Hurst said. "Have you actually been aboard an Innovation-class ship yet?"

"I would have liked to have visited the prototype USS _Innovation_ before coming here, but there was not the time," she replied. "And as you will know, jets do not carry holosuites. Therefore I only have the information given to me by Starfleet Command."

"You're in for a treat then," Hurst said. They entered the docking bay. The view of the ship was not as impressive as that back at Horizon but it was better than nothing. Hurst let D'Zira have a brief look at the outside, but was unable to determine her impressions. He led her onto the walkway and into _Genesis_ proper.

"We'll start in Engineering and work our way up," Hurst said. She nodded in agreement. They entered the turbolift.

"Deck Twelve-A," Hurst said.

"I have been curious to know as to why this class of starship refers to Deck Thirteen as Deck Twelve-A," D'Zira said. Hurst smiled properly for the first time since they met.

"In some areas of Earth culture, the number thirteen has long been considered to bring about bad luck," he explained. "After the Innovation-class ships were designed, it was realised that Engineering lay on Deck Thirteen. The general consensus was that allocating deck thirteen to such an important department was asking for trouble, and they couldn't just throw the design out of the window, so they renamed the deck Twelve-A."

"I'm surprised that such a concession was allowed," D'Zira replied.

"Well, the ship was designed for a special mission," Hurst said. "I think a little persuasion went a long way on this occasion."

"Obviously it did," D'Zira answered. They stepped out into Engineering and began the tour, Hurst introducing D'Zira to as many of the crew as possible. She had been given a crew manifest before leaving for EDS Two-Five and a briefing by Starfleet, but it was going to be a hard task to get up to speed. Hurst had had months to prepare for this; she had not. He watched her closely as they made their way about the ship, trying to determine if there were any signs of being overwhelmed. So far, she seemed to be coping fine or else hiding her feelings very well. Perhaps that was why she had been given the assignment. Being a part Vulcan gave her a greater ability to cope with the stress of the position she found herself in.

"If I were struggling Captain, I would tell you," she said suddenly. Hurst was thrown a little.

"Of course you would," he said, recovering. "Any member of crew shouldn't pretend to handle a situation when they can't and I would certainly not expect my first officer to do that."

"I never have lied to a senior officer, sir," she responded.

"I should think not," Hurst said. He decided to change the subject slightly. "I'm interested, Commander, in how much you can sense empathically."

"I am both fully empathic and telepathic," she replied. "Because I am half Vulcan I do not fit the typical characteristics of a part Betazoid. Nor do I fulfil what is considered usual of a Vulcan, for that matter. Vulcan-Betazoid hybrids are unique in that they cannot be generalised in terms of mental prowess. Each individual displays a differing combination of ancestral traits."

"That's interesting," Hurst said, genuinely. His mind went back to how Betazoids and Vulcans seemed to be at odds with each other.

"I know that some people who have separate species as parents find it hard to reconcile the two sides," he said. He noticed a flicker of sadness cross D'Zira's face.

"Yes. My life has been…different. Yet at the same time I feel that I have benefited in ways that neither of my parents could do for themselves," she said. There seemed to be a lot beneath that cool Vulcan exterior that Hurst couldn't determine yet. Perhaps he would have a more interesting replacement second-in-command than he first thought. Time would tell on that. The tour was almost at an end. They stepped into another turbolift.

"Bridge," Hurst said. A few seconds later they were at their destination. Beckett and Orea were at their stations, most likely performing routine checks. They turned round to see who had come onto the bridge and immediately were on their feet.

"At ease," Hurst said. He introduced the commander to first Beckett and then Orea. Both were genuinely welcoming of the new first officer. Hurst had been a little worried about Orea, wondering if he expected to take Wheeler's place since he was second officer, but he soon realized that the thought probably never even crossed the big, felinoid helm officer's mind. As he had done throughout the tour, he gave D'Zira time to talk to other officers before showing her the command station. Most of the crew that they had come across seemed to be accepting of D'Zira; they hardly knew Wheeler, so a change made little difference to them. The immediate bridge officers were perhaps going to be the challenge. He'd deal with that if and when needed. To him, the most important matter was getting to Andromeda. He looked at his watch and realised that he'd better get the crew together.

"Lieutenant Beckett, have you transferred all the necessary codes over to Commander D'Zira?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Beckett replied. Hurst turned to D'Zira.

"Have you familiarised yourself with all your command codes?"

"I have, Captain," she said.

"Good," Hurst said. "Then you have the bridge whilst I attend to other business."

"Yes, Captain," she replied. Hurst had deliberately thrown her straight into work to see how she would react. If he had wanted to see her deviate from the character she had shown so far, he would have been disappointed. She watched him leave the bridge and then settled herself down at the command station, choosing her chair rather than the captain's. Whilst some people would have felt unnerved, D'Zira welcomed the opportunity to sit down and begin processing everything that she had learnt. She hadn't even had the chance to look at her quarters – all her belongings had been sent straight there so that she could go and meet Captain Hurst. There was no time to waste on easing her into the environment. It was straight in at the deep end. The sound of the bridge doors opening made her look up. A young Bajoran ensign had stopped dead in his tracks and was staring at her.

"I…er…Sir," he managed to get out. D'Zira stood.

"Ma'am, please. You would be Ensign Tay Barlis?" she asked.

"Yes. Yes, ma'am," he said, trying to recover himself and also ignore the fact that Lieutenant Beckett was staring at him and obviously trying not to laugh.

"I'm Commander D'Zira. You are in charge of Operations, are you not?" D'Zira said.

"Yes, ma'am," Tay replied. D'Zira nodded, seemingly happy to have successfully identified a member of crew. Tay remained standing in the spot he had frozen in.

"That's all, Ensign. You may proceed to your station and carry out your tasks," D'Zira said.

"Yes, ma'am," Tay said again and gratefully slipped into his station. Beckett hid a chuckle by surreptitiously facing away from the scene, whilst D'Zira returned to studying her console, trying to bring herself up to speed with the functions. Tay got on with his own work though not without the odd curious glance over at D'Zira. The other set of bridge doors opened and in stepped Ensign Dupin. She was also surprised to see the new commander alone on the bridge already but did not falter like Tay. When D'Zira rose to greet her, she was ready.

"Ensign Aimee Dupin, Science Officer, Commander," she said, sounding completely collected and self-assured, unlike her peer.

"Commander D'Zira. At ease, Ensign. Please carry on with your work."

"Yes ma'am." Dupin made her way gracefully to the science station. By the time Hurst rejoined the bridge, _Genesis_ was ready to go. He sat himself down in his chair, acknowledging D'Zira with a brief smile. He tapped a few commands into his console and read some information concerning the status of the ship. Satisfied, he took a breath and prepared himself for the next phase of their journey.

"Okay, this is it, everyone," he said. "We're definitely past the point of no return."

"Receiving orders," Tay said. "We're to undock from the station after everyone else has moved out of orbit. Since we are now out of order, we will have a new travelling partner who will wait for us."

"Who will that be?" Hurst asked.

"The _Stellar Navigator_, sir," Tay replied. Hurst looked pleased.

"Rejar Valis," he said and saw D'Zira looking at him questioningly. "He's an old friend, Commander. Send out the message that we're ready to go." They waited for the message to come back that everyone else was ready to go too. It didn't take long.

"EDS Two-Five is releasing us from dock," Tay said.

"The _Stellar Navigator_ is waiting for us off our port side," Beckett said.

"Orea, take us out of here. Tay, hail the _Stellar Navigator_," Hurst said. A few seconds later, a greying Bajoran was peering back at them from the view screen, his bridge a mirror of their own in terms of layout.

"Jordan. Glad to be travelling with you."

"And likewise, Valis," Hurst replied.

"You take a lead. We don't mind being last," Captain Rejar said.

"Only because you're used to it," Hurst teased. Rejar laughed.

"I'm sure we'll manage to get there before you."

"Don't be so sure," Hurst grinned. The other captain chuckled again.

"We'll see you in Andromeda," he said and the view screen faded to stars.

"Take us up to the warp speed of the others, Mr Orea," Hurst said.

"Aye Captain." The ship jumped smoothly into warp. "Heading towards galactic rim." They were entering the final phase of their journey that took place in the Milky Way. The ships all had pre-programmed coordinates of a specific point in Andromeda. They were to target themselves at that point and use transwarp to get there. It sounded easy, but it wasn't. It was extremely dangerous. If the slightest thing went wrong with the transwarp navigation system, then a ship could find itself literally the other side of the universe...wherever that might be.

"The first ships are preparing to engage their quantum transwarp drives," Tay said. Hurst stared at the view screen. He thought he could make out a flash, but wasn't sure.

"They've entered transwarp," Beckett said. "I'm picking up tachyon residuals."

"We won't know until we get there ourselves if they've been successful," Hurst said. "Keep tracking the others." After what seemed forever, it was their turn. The moment of truth.

"Bring us up to warp nine point five," Hurst said. "Begin to match velocity trajectory to predicted course coordinates and entry point."

"Aye Captain." Orea began pushing more buttons. He felt a twinge in his stomach but forced it away. He had done this plenty of times before, but that was in simulations. This time there were real lives at stake if it went wrong.

"The _Stellar Navigator_ is matching our speed," Beckett said. "They are holding position two thousand kilometres off starboard."

"Activate secondary nacelles. Increase speed towards warp ten and prepare to bring the transwarp drive online," Hurst said. What few stars there were this far out in the galaxy whizzed past them at an insane speed, which only grew faster as the secondary transwarp nacelles detached themselves from the primary nacelles which were usually used in every day space travel.

"Transwarp drive is online," Tay said.

"Initiate countdown," Hurst said.

"Countdown initiated. Primary and secondary nacelles fully extended. We're at warp nine point nine nine," Orea said. "Ten seconds to transwarp." Hurst could feel the adrenaline rush through his body and kept his eyes firmly on the view screen. There was a sudden lurch by the ship, as if someone had given it a good shove.

"We're at transwarp, Captain," Orea said, sounding somewhat awed. Although the trip was instantaneous, each starship generated a sort of bubble to give some protection against the effects of travelling at infinite velocity. Hence, time appeared to move slower within the ship – and allowed the crew to monitor what was happening and to react should trouble arise.

Hurst was therefore able to look around the bridge and see that everyone was fixated on the view screen. He looked at it too. It was flickering, showing first nothing and then flashes of what looked like some 'interpretive' art he had seen. Hurst also had time to notice that he felt no motion from the ship. It was as if they were floating. Everything seemed so distant, even peaceful. The notion that something could so easily go wrong, like being catapulted into oblivion by the galactic barrier for instance, seemed faint…

And then time speeded up again. There was noise, the ship bumping around, stars on the view screen showing that they were doing incredible speed somewhere. But was it where they wanted to be?

"Status," Hurst said.

"Transwarp drive has disengaged as planned," Orea informed him. "Secondary nacelles are retracting."

"Sensors are a little patchy…I'm picking up the other ships seven thousand kilometres away behind us. The _Stellar Navigator_ has also just dropped out of transwarp," Beckett told them.

"Orea, slow us down and turn us about," Hurst said. "Beckett, are we at our destination?"

"The astrometric sensors are still reconfiguring, Captain," Beckett said. He frowned slightly as he studied the information filtering before him. The rest of the bridge held its breath as the tactical consoles chirped away.

"Almost there…astrometric sensors have adjusted. According to them, we're in Andromeda, Captain, almost exactly at the intended coordinates." Beckett's voice was the essence of calm, but he was unable to hide the grin on his face. A collective sigh of relief seemed to be released.

"No reports of anything untoward aboard the ship," Tay said.

"Well done everyone," Hurst said, standing up. He patted Orea on the shoulder. "Excellent job, Commander."

"Thank you, sir," the furred Lieutenant Commander rumbled, genially. Hurst went past the helm to stand directly in front of the view screen. D'Zira joined him.

"Well, so far it looks much the same as home," she said after a moment of looking at the alien stars. Hurst looked at her.

"You sound unimpressed, Commander."

"I assure you I am not, Captain. We are part of a fleet that has just made history," she replied.

"Captain, we're being hailed by the _Stellar Navigator_," Tay said.

"On screen, Ensign," Hurst said. Captain Rejar Valis's image appeared once again.

"Well, Jordan, looks like you got the jump on us. Good journey?"

"Perfect on board here, Valis. How about you?"

"One of my bridge crew is a little bruised from an unexpected jolt, but apart from that, we are ready and eager to proceed on our mission."

"A jolt? Sounds like _Stellar_ was trying to wake you up," Hurst said.

"My ship simply likes to keep us on our toes, unlike that lazy lump of yours," Rejar answered back.

"She'll take that personally," replied Hurst in a voice of mock warning. Rejar laughed.

"Whatever you say, Jordan," he said. "Anyway, all the best with your journey."

"You too, Valis. See you in a year's time, all being well."

"Yes, hopefully your ship will be intact," Rejar said, getting one last jibe in. "Rejar out." The communication was cut before Hurst could think of a suitable rejoinder.

"He always gets the last word," Hurst muttered.

"We have arrived at the rendezvous point with the other ships," Orea said. "I'm bringing us to a full stop."

"The _Pilot_ is sending out a general message," Tay said. The view screen automatically changed to reveal Commodore West, the leader of the Millennium Mission fleet.

"Well, I'm glad to see that we have all arrived safely," he began. "We are now in Andromeda."

"We've kind of worked that out," Dupin snorted.

"West's always had a knack for pointing out the obvious. I served under him once…" began Beckett, but a look from Hurst shut him up. West, obviously not hearing the conversation, continued.

"We are each about to depart for our designated sectors. You all know the plans. For around twelve months you will be alone, exploring this new galaxy. We will meet up after this time to compare notes as it were and then continue exploring. You will have some communications with each other, however please refrain from contacting each other except in an emergency situation. Should such a scenario arise, you must also send a message to inform myself, since the _Pilot_ is of course the nerve centre of this mission. And I'm sure I don't have to remind you that although we are no longer in Federation space, all of our rules still apply, from the Prime Directive downwards. Most important of all, never forget the Starfleet motto: To boldly go where no one has gone before. We're the embodiment of that phrase, whatever this mission may bring. I think that I have said what needs to be said. It's time for all of us to start our individual journeys, unless you need to have further communication with me. I look forward to seeing you in a year's time. West out." The view screen once again faded to stars.

"That man is very patronising," remarked Dupin. Hurst looked at her as he and D'Zira went back to the command station.

"Ensign, he was designated the leader of this mission. He was just doing his job," Hurst said and then rolled his eyes. "Though I must admit he really needs to work on his speeches." Dupin smiled to herself, knowing that her captain was not really angry with her.

"Orea, take us to our sector…at warp eight. How long will it take for us to get there?"

"At this speed, three hours and twenty minutes." Hurst nodded, and relaxed. For the moment, he would allow himself to enjoy the ride.

"Dupin, what kinds of readings are you picking up?"

"Hydrogen particles, interstellar matter, similar to what we have back home."

"Let me know if anything significant shows," said Hurst. He was not surprised by the similarities. Scanners back home showed that Andromeda had a similar composition to their own galaxy. He recalled vaguely something he had read about that happened some five hundred years previously. A ship from Andromeda had made it to the Milky Way. The aliens on board had claimed that rising levels of radiation would soon make Andromeda uninhabitable. This news had created a lack of interest in Andromeda for decades. But advanced technology and the development of transwarp in the past two hundred years had made interest flare up again. Detailed scans had been conducted of Andromeda, but no sign of radiation of any kind of the levels reported was found. Perhaps the aliens had been mistaken, or had since found a way to save themselves. As far as he was concerned, it was ancient history – it had been five hundred years for the Federation and given that Andromeda was over two million light years away from the Milky Way, goodness knows how long ago it was for the aliens concerned. He relaxed back in his seat. Hopefully not everything would be the same here. It would be a very boring mission if it was.

.


	4. The Q

The USS _Genesis Millennia_ and her crew had barely been in the Andromeda galaxy for two hours when Ensign Tay spotted something unusual on the scanners.

"Captain, I'm reading a massive cloud of debris ahead."

"What sort of debris?"

"It's like an asteroid field but we are not in the vicinity of a solar system. The cloud is also unusual in that it's moving through space at an abnormal speed," the young Bajoran said. Hurst stood up.

"Interesting. Can you get a visual?"

"I'll try." A moment later, the cloud of debris appeared on the viewscreen. Sure enough, rocks and dust could be seen churning ominously.

"I'm reading a massive gravitational field, Captain. We should move out of the path of the anomaly now," Beckett said.

"Do as the Lieutenant suggests, Orea," Hurst said. Orea entered the correct commands into the console but nothing happened.

"Engines aren't responding, Captain."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It's like they've simply stopped." The ship shuddered violently.

"We're caught in the gravitational field," Beckett said. "The anomaly is about to hit us."

"Raise shields," Hurst said. He tapped his combadge.

"Hurst to Lieutenant Truman. Michael, what's wrong with the engines?"

"_I can't determine that, Captain. I can't even get the thrusters online,_" came Truman's reply. The ship lurched violently as the cloud enveloped them. The viewscreen swam as the ship was spun around. The sound of rocks bouncing off the shields was like hailstones.

"What is our status?" asked Hurst, clinging to a rail.

"We are being dragged along with the cloud. We are already miles from our last location," said D'Zira, studying her console.

"Captain, our shields will only protect us against small rocks," said Beckett. Hurst dragged himself across the bridge to the helm.

"Even if we had engines, I don't know how we would escape this cloud," Orea told him.

"There must be something we can do! I did not come to Andromeda to spend time in a cloud of rocks!" said Hurst, angrily.

"Large rock heading towards us at one mark seven point three," said Beckett.

"What are you waiting for? Lock phasers and fire!" shouted Hurst. The rock shattered.

"The shields appear to be draining," said D'Zira. "There doesn't appear to be a cause for it."

"Try diverting non essential systems to reinforce the power to them," replied Hurst.

"Captain, there are too many large rocks!" said Beckett. Hurst was about to reply when a huge rock knocked the ship sideways and Hurst almost to the floor.

"Hull breach on decks ten and eleven," said Tay. "Activating force field and self repair programme."

"Shields are still depleting," said D'Zira.

"Re route life support from decks ten and eleven," Hurst said. Beckett tracked another rock that threatened _Genesis_'s fate and moved to destroy it.

"I've lost phasers," he said. He moved to the torpedoes. "Torpedoes too. That rock is going to hit us in the next thirty seconds." The object in question could now be seen dominating the viewscreen. Hurst looked at it. The impact would kill them all. He turned to his crew and was about to say something when the bombardment stopped. The cloud seemed to have vanished.

"Captain, we are at our previous co-ordinates. All damage has been repaired!" said Tay, amazed.

"Both warp and impulse engines are operational. We are travelling at warp eight, as we were when we encountered the anomaly and heading towards our designated sector," said Orea.

"How is that possible?" demanded Hurst. D'Zira suddenly looked perturbed.

"That was not a natural phenomenon," she said. Before Hurst could ask any questions of her, an unfamiliar voice could be heard.

"You're right, Commander. And you can thank me for your escape, Captain." All eyes turned to the captain's chair. As they did, a woman, wearing the uniform of a Starfleet captain, and carrying a 20th century style suitcase, appeared in a flash of light. D'Zira leapt up from her chair as Hurst started forwards. Beckett grabbed his phaser.

"Well, do I get a word of thanks?" the woman asked, running a hand through somewhat tousled auburn hair.

"Who are you?" demanded Hurst.

"Humans! Such ungrateful creatures! I shouldn't have bothered," said the woman, standing up and tucking the suitcase under Hurst's chair.

"Did you create that field? Answer me," said Hurst. "Lieutenant Beckett…"

"No, but I know who did, and I'll take that phaser, thank you. Not that it'll do me much harm," said the woman, and snapped her fingers. Beckett's phaser appeared in her hand, while the chief security officer stood with his mouth open in amazement.

"You're Q, aren't you?" said Hurst. The Q, as she indeed was, smiled. She appeared as if in her mid twenties, but Hurst knew she was years older than that.

"Finally! You know Jordan; you're a bit slow off the mark. I'm surprised. You're supposed to be one of the best captains in Starfleet," said Q, getting up and moving towards him.

"Why are you on this ship?" asked Hurst. This was the last thing he could have done with on top of everything else today. A Q on his ship. The Q smiled broadly and an instant later the Bridge had been transformed into some sort of celebration event. Colourful lights flashed as bits of glittery paper fell from somewhere in the ceiling and tinny music played. Hurst realised that he was wearing an ancient Earth outfit called a tuxedo – in fact all the men were. All the women were in dresses, including his first officer, who seemed to be having trouble balancing on the stilettos she suddenly found herself wearing. The Q meanwhile was now standing on the raised walkway at the back of the bridge that led to Hurst's ready room. She was also in a dress and holding some sort of instrument that she spoke into.

"Congratulations Captain Hurst and the crew of the USS _Genesis Millennia_," she announced, throwing out her free arm in an exaggerated fashion. "You've been specially selected at random to bear the special honour of witnessing first hand the unique powers of one of the rare gems of the universe." Hurst and the other officers winced at both the loudness of her voice through the microphone and the screech of feedback.

"I still don't understand," he said.

"I've come to join this crew," she replied, suddenly appearing in front of him again. Hurst scowled.

"I have all the crew I need, thank you all the same for your offer." Q shook her head.

"Please let me explain." Q put down the microphone as Hurst folded his arms.

"This had better be good, Q," he said.

"Well, I'm interested in learning about Humans. For all your faults, you're an interesting species," said Q. D'Zira eyed her, curious.

"Why come aboard a starship, especially one so far from Earth? Would you not be better to live on Earth to carry out your studies?"

Q smiled again in that curious Q way that was a mixture of arrogance, cheek, and superiority.

"A starship is more to my taste – you can't explore the universe stuck in one place. And well, basically I've been sent by the Continuum to keep an eye on this fleet."

"What business does the Q Continuum have in our plans?" Hurst asked.

"I am only a young Q. Five hundred and ninety four years old, to be exact. I am still learning, still experiencing new things. The Continuum decided this was a good opportunity for me to practice my responsibilities as well as carry out my studies. Anyway, a Q will be useful to you."

"Responsibilities? The Q Continuum? And how can a Q be useful?" demanded Hurst.

"I know some of this galaxy. And with my powers you can be sure that you'll never come to any harm," said Q. Hurst raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sure we could, but I don't want or need a guide." The face of the Q fell, and she turned to D'Zira.

"Ellenabi, you're not human. You must be curious about Humans, too."

"As I would any other species…" began D'Zira, but the Q had turned to Tay.

"You, Ensign. You wonder about Human's."

"Well…" Tay hesitated. Q scowled slightly.

"Don't you dare lie," she said, a warning noticeable in the undertones of her voice. Tay tried to look unconcerned and replied,

"They're different in many ways, Q, so yes. I do." Q turned to Hurst.

"So, Captain, these other non Humans are allowed on this ship, and they share my curiosity. Why not me?"

"The Q are troublemakers, our records have shown that. The beings on this ship all have earned their positions, and places," said Hurst.

"Those Q were not me. So let me earn my place! I'll do any job you want!" begged Q, over the top like her race were prone to do. "Put me through training – I can take it! Give me an IQ test! You'll find that even at my tender age I'll top two thousand!"

"Why not go through Starfleet Academy, if you want so much to be part of the crew of a starship?" Dupin asked. Q looked at her with contempt and, mocking thoughtfulness said,

"Let's see…enter the Academy and waste the best part of the decade learning about things I know off by heart…or jump on board a starship, where I'd be of far more use, and have far more fun. I know which one I'd choose." Hurst sighed angrily, and was about to say something, when D'Zira motioned for him to turn round for a quiet conversation.

"Captain, she would be an advantage to us. We are very much alone," she said, still holding onto a rail for support. She personally hoped that she wouldn't have to move any distance in the ridiculous shoes she was wearing.

"Yes, but how do we know that she wouldn't cause havoc? I don't want someone like that on this ship, Commander," hissed Hurst through his teeth. D'Zira nodded.

"I have been thinking about that. I believe I have a solution that will suit all of us," she said.

"I'd like to hear it," Hurst said. They both turned to Q.

"Perhaps we could welcome you onto this ship if you agree to a condition," D'Zira said.

"Well, that depends on what that is, Commander."

"Take us to the Continuum, and have them make you at least partly human. That way we know you cannot fool around with us as much as you could do." Q looked horrified.

"Oh, no. I'm not having that. No, no, no. No way."

"Leave this ship, then," said Hurst. Q scowled deeply then clicked her fingers. At first, Hurst thought that she had gone, but then realised that the bridge of _Genesis_ had disappeared, and he was standing in a kind of mediaeval throne room. He was alone, apart from the man in the throne, the female Q, and several more members of the Continuum. He was also glad to see that he was back in uniform, as was the Q.

"Where are we?" asked Hurst.

"The Continuum – at least, a representation of it," replied Q. The Q on the throne stood up.

"Q? I thought that you had gone on your assignment? Why are you back here so soon? And why have you brought a human here?"

"I know the rules, but this is an exception," said Q.

"Explain yourself, Q."

"This is the captain of the ship chosen for me to study. He is reluctant to let me on board unless I become part human," she said.

"That's quite an interesting proposition. It could be arranged," said the Q leader. "After all, we have an obligation to prevent damage to these lower societies." Hurst smiled at Q, who shook her head.

"But I don't want that to happen! I came here for you to talk him out of his stupid idea."

"You are very young, compared to most of us. You belong to the part of the Q who is willing to explore new ideas and grow. That is what you are supposed to be using this time for, as we agreed. You are omnipotent. What are a few years to infinity?" replied the lead Q.

"So?"

"So?" echoed the Q leader. "You were supposed to keep an eye on that fleet so that they behaved themselves, and so far you haven't shown you can even do that. You're as pitiful as they are!"

"I'm sorry, but this idiot wouldn't let me on his ship!" protested the younger Q, pointing at Hurst.

"Well, this is a way to make sure that idiot can't get you off his ship. I think that it will be beneficial to your studies. Let me tell you something." The Q leader waved his hand in the air, and the female Q was standing beside him. He leant and whispered in her ear.

"I've spent time with Humans myself. You'll get used to them. They're quite friendly really." Hurst's Q had evidently expected something more supportive, for her face fell. The Q leader then waved his hand again, and Q was back where she was.

"I knew this was a bad idea!" she stormed next to Hurst. The Q leader summoned two others beside him. Together they held a deep conversation for about thirty seconds, then the lead Q nodded to the young Q. Energy seemed to flow out of her, and dissipate into the air. In a flash, her clothes changed from that of a Captain, to normal 31st century style clothing that would be suitable for living on a starship.

"This is our condition. You are still a full Q while in the Continuum. Leave and you become half human. If you do leave, you will only be reintegrated back after a suitable amount of years. And I must warn you that you could die," the lead Q told her.

"Die?" Q looked pale.

"You will be part human, therefore you are mortal. It is your choice."

"I have told you my choice," said Q. The Q leader eyed her, losing patience.

"And you are answerable to your superiors. The way you are carrying on, anyone would think that we were making you completely human. It can be arranged very easily, I can tell you. I should know."

"No, no, what you have done is enough," Q said, hastily. "But what use can I be to anyone without being a proper Q?" Hurst turned to her, feeling sorry for the young Q, and seeing what D'Zira had been thinking.

"Look, you wanted to experience life with Humans. What better way to experience that life than becoming one?"

"Good thinking for a lesser species," said the Q leader. Hurst ignored him.

"Most mortal beings envy the Q's ability to do what they want…be what they want. I would love to be able to see the universe like you can. We are spending a few measly years in a starship exploring a sector of an unknown galaxy. You have forever afterward to carry on with your life."

"Oh, look who's crawling. You were desperate not to have me earlier," sniffed Q, folding her arms. Hurst sighed.

"I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just that you can't simply come barging your way onto my bridge, and expect me to accept you just like that. I'm grateful for what you did to save our lives…but if you are to join us, you must learn that you have to do so much more to earn people's trust than trying to impose authority on them. I think you will benefit from being part of my crew."

"Really?" said Q.

"I would consider it brave of you to venture into the unknown if you accept, Q," said Hurst, gently.

"You would?" Hurst nodded and smiled. Q smiled back. "Humans have strange concepts, but I accept, Jordan…Captain." Hurst turned to the Q leader.

"How do I know that her powers are diminished?"

"The Q are many things, Captain, but we are not liars," he replied with all his superiority. He looked at the young Q.

"I'll overlook this disruption, Q," he said.

"Thank you, Q," she replied, in genuine deference to him. She turned to Hurst. "Well, this is the last time I'll do this for a while." The Q leader gave her a knowing smile as she clicked her fingers. A moment later, Q and Hurst were back on the bridge of _Genesis_. Things were back to normal. D'Zira got up from the Captain's seat.

"Captain?" Hurst smiled at her, and nodded towards Q, who had folded her arms and was sulking. Hurst was amazed at how rapidly the mood of a Q could change.

"We now have another member of the crew. A half Human Q."

"The Continuum did not mind?" asked D'Zira.

"No. Actually, they rather liked the idea. I think they felt it would add educational value," smiled Hurst. Dupin could not resist making a remark.

"Oh, Grand Q. How does it feel to be Human?" Q just gave her a dirty look. D'Zira also looked at Dupin, not liking the attitude she had discerned in the young woman since they had met. Hurst decided that he would get the Q settled in before anyone else rattled her cage.

"Commander, please assign Q some quarters, and make sure she is settled in. Then take her to see Dr Davies for a medical."

"Yes, Captain." D'Zira led the way out of the Bridge to the turbolift. Q followed rather ungraciously. When they had gone, protests began to flitter into Hurst's ear. Dupin was first, as was becoming usual.

"Captain, don't you think you made the wrong decision? You can't have a Q on a starship!"

"Why not?" Hurst asked her.

"Because they're untrustworthy, arrogant, and only interested in showing off their powers," said Dupin. Hurst merely shrugged.

"She's limited in her powers now, so that's one less thing to deal with." Orea turned to him.

"I agree with Aimee. How much power did the Q take from her? And how do we know that others will not appear?"

"There is nothing significant she can do," chimed in Beckett. Hurst had enough. He turned round to face the entire bridge.

"I am willing to give her a chance, and I expect you all to do the same thing. This is an opportunity to learn about the Q as well. Keep your complaints to yourselves, please. Unless she murders anybody, I don't want to know. And if I find any of the crew picking on her," his gaze seemed to travel specifically in Dupin's direction, "they will face direct disciplinary action from myself. Understood?" There was a silence, and Hurst returned to his chair, sat down and composed himself.

"Commander Orea, how long until we arrive at our destination?"

"Just over an hour, Sir."

"Increase speed to warp nine. I want to be there soon, so we can all retire for a few hours. We've all had a hectic day."

* * *

D'Zira and Q walked in silence down the corridor leading to a section of crew quarters. Q took a breath as if to say something, but changed her mind. D'Zira looked at her.

"If there is something you want to say Q, then say it."

"Do you think it is fair what has happened to me?" D'Zira thought before answering.

"Perhaps it is not. But you wish to learn, and the best way to do that is through experience. That is partly why I suggested you should loose your powers." They stopped outside a nameless door. D'Zira opened it and they went inside.

"This is nice. So drab," said Q, and sat down. Absently, she clicked her fingers, and her suitcase appeared. This cheered her a little.

"Well, that's a good start," she said. "Now, let's see what else I can get." She pointed at the middle of the room, and a tiny table appeared. The smile disappeared.

"This will take some time," she muttered.

"You can see to your quarters later, Q," said D'Zira. "We must go to sickbay now." They left and walked back to the turbolift.

"Commander. You are a hybrid being. What if someone removed your Vulcan abilities, or your Betazoid abilities? You would not be yourself, right?"

"That depends on what you mean by removal. If you are talking about simply surpassing my telepathic capabilities, then yes, it would take away a part of me. If you mean removing either part of my DNA, to remove that bloodline, then I would die, as I need both sets to live," replied D'Zira.

"Really? Do you think my life is in danger?"

"Of course not." They entered the lift.

"I suppose we have something in common, now," said Q.

"And what would that be?"

"We're both of mixed species. I'm half human, half Q now."

"That does not leave us with anything in common. We are made up of completely different races," said D'Zira. Q's eyes lit up.

"Well, we'd make the best away team, wouldn't we, with four species between us? Admittedly, I'd swap the Human for…" D'Zira interrupted.

"I cannot see you going on an away mission in the near future, Q. You do not know anything about the skills needed for such a task."

"I'm a fast learner, Commander," said Q jovially as the lift stopped, and they entered sickbay. There, Dr Duane Davies was waiting for them, having already been briefed by Hurst.

Duane Davies was a West Indian man, a skilled surgeon. He had a wonderful sense of humour, which quickly put most patients at ease. Some found his manner a little disconcerting at first, particularly aliens who were not used to Humans.

"Ah, so this is our new crew member," he said, gesturing to a bed. Q went and lay down. Davies set up a body scan, and took a sample of blood. He scanned it with a tricorder to get an initial impression. D'Zira looked on, curious.

"Well, there is certainly Human DNA present and another form of DNA, which I presume to be Q. There appears to be the usual stuff in Human blood…and a strange substance I'll have to separate to get a better look at."

"What does it appear to be?" asked D'Zira. Davies frowned slightly.

"I'm not sure…it appears to be made up of pure energy. I wish I had a sample of pure Q blood - or whatever is equivalent - to analyse."

"Blame Captain Hurst. He whisked me off without a thought for that." butted in Q.

"What type of energy does it appear to be?" asked D'Zira. Davies shook his head.

"It seems to be bio energy, yet there are several anomalies that make me doubtful." He turned to Q, who was trying to see what was going on without sitting up.

"Can you explain this? You know more about yourself than I do," Davies asked her. Q shrugged.

"I'm not a doctor, but I think that the energy you're picking up is a remainder of what would be equivalent to Q blood. It is what gives us our abilities, and lets us live in sub space. The Q are made from energy. That allows us to do anything we want."

"Well young lady, you can't do that anymore," said Davies.

"You know how to make people feel better, don't you?" said Q, peeved. Davies laughed.

"Of course I do. I'm a doctor, aren't I?"

"Why does no one have sympathy for me?" lamented Q. "I've been torn away from the Continuum, had my powers taken from me, and all you can do is laugh. I could be dying for all you know."

"I hate to tell you this, Q, but you're perfectly healthy, physically. However, your mental health needs seeing to," replied Davies, waving the tricorder over Q's head.

"Why? What's wrong?" Q said in a panic.

"Hmm. Let's see…a bad tendency to think only of oneself for a start," said Davies.

"Oh, very funny," said Q, irritated. "Commander, does he talk to everyone like this?"

"Unfortunately Q, I have not had the pleasure of seeing Dr Davies in action before," said D'Zira. Davies smiled, and looked at the tricorder.

"Very interesting brain patterns. I'm actually picking up similar energy to what I picked up in her blood." He looked at D'Zira. "I wish Captain Hurst had thought to send her here first. I would have liked to seen readings from a pure Q for comparison." To Q he said,

"Well, Q, you may be part Human, but you're still very interesting from a medical point of view."

"Thank you," said Q. Davies looked at her bio scan.

"All organs that I can see are Human. All are extremely healthy. You get a clean bill of health," he told her. He turned to D'Zira.

"In fact, these organs are extraordinarily healthy. They are perfect."

Q sat up and smiled cockily at him.

"That's my Q side for you. Isn't it wonderful? Does that mean I can go?"

"Yes. I have everything I need for your medical file, Q. But I would like you to come back when you are settled in, and go through some things with you. Nothing serious, just some general questions." He leant over to D'Zira and said quietly, "I would say she's fascinating, but I don't want to boost her ego anymore than it is." He turned back to Q, and looked thoughtful.

"What is it?" asked D'Zira.

"I was wondering if our friend here was planning on giving herself a name. We can't call her Q."

Q had got off the bed, and was standing beside D'Zira.

"Why not?"

"Well because all your people are called Q. You are not part of the Continuum now. And if we run into anymore of your people, well, it will help stop confusion," replied Davies.

"That is logical," agreed D'Zira.

"I'll give it some thought," said Q. D'Zira motioned for her that they should be on their way. Q turned to Davies.

"See you soon, no doubt," she said.

"I'm sure I will," said the doctor. He tidied away the equipment he had used to examine Q and set about preparing a report. Life was certainly not going to be dull on this ship with her around.


	5. First Impressions

Ewan Beckett awoke with a jump. At first he wondered why he wasn't in his apartment, but then he remembered that he was in his quarters on board _Genesis Millennia_. He shook his head. How could he forget a thing like that? He stretched out in his bed before groaning and getting out. He headed for the shower, and realised that his stomach was rumbling. Once dressed, he ordered some breakfast from the replicator and after eating it, made his way to the bridge. Beckett wondered what their first full day in another galaxy would hold. He supposed that he'd be assisting in analysing any signs of civilization. He reached the bridge to find that almost everyone else was there, except for himself and the Captain. D'Zira was sat in the command chair, and turned round at the sound of Beckett coming in.

"Good morning, Commander," he said, cheerily.

"Lieutenant," she replied politely, then turned back to look at a padd she was reading. Beckett took up his station and began to start his usual duties of checking the ship's security systems and sensors. He wasn't sure what to make of D'Zira. She was certainly a departure from Commander Wheeler. Everyone knew that Vulcans were Vulcans. Each one exhibited the same kind of behaviour – unemotional, logical and dependable, except perhaps for some amongst the group known as the Displaced. But D'Zira was half Betazoid, and that made her an unknown. He decided that he shouldn't underestimate or try and second-guess the demure Commander. Who knows what she was capable of? He glanced over at Aimee Dupin. Beckett knew more about her than he cared to. His cousin had been at the Academy with her, and he had told Ewan a few tales when he knew that Dupin was going to be on Beckett's ship.

"An overbearing little cow," was how his cousin had summed her up. Beckett hadn't spoken to her on personal terms – in fact the only direct conversation had been when he had tried to make the comment about Commodore West, but he decided to try and give her a wide berth where possible. He couldn't be bothered with people like that. At that moment, there was a noise above him. Hurst had come out of his ready-room, which was located at the back of the bridge, up some stairs which arched over the engineering station. Hurst came down the stairs on the Ops side of the bridge. Beckett smiled at Tay. The young Bajoran seemed to almost shake as Hurst walked past him. Beckett couldn't see why Tay would be so scared of the Captain. He seemed a decent enough man in his eyes. Tay was only a relatively new ensign and perhaps was feeling a little overwhelmed, so Beckett decided that he would try and make friends with him. After all, they were a long way from home.

"Anything to report, Ewan?"

"Umm…no. All systems normal," Beckett replied, startled out of his daydream. Hurst nodded, and went to sit in the command chair that D'Zira had just vacated. She seemed to look at Beckett out of the corner of her eye just before she sat down in her own chair. Beckett felt a little uncomfortable. Had she been reading his thoughts whilst appearing to study something else? She couldn't do that, could she? Half-Betazoids were only supposed to be able to sense strong emotions. He decided to concentrate on his tasks before him, just in case.

D'Zira _had_ been listening to Beckett's thoughts. Beckett was right that most half Betazoids could only sense strong emotions; however he had forgotten that Vulcans were also telepathic. If asked, D'Zira would modestly admit to being easily as capable as the average Betazoid in her abilities. In truth, she was potentially stronger in her telepathic abilities than either of her parent's species was by themselves. She tried to keep this fact very much to herself. She knew that a lot of people - humans in particular - found the idea of telepathy enviable but it had often been a burden to her personally and ever since adolescence, she had resisted pressure to fully explore her so-called gifts.

"You'll be equally cursed and blessed when you're grown up, Lena," her father had told her as a child. It had been a true statement. Like all Betazoids, D'Zira never purposely looked into someone's mind without permission. She usually screened out even those thoughts that were on the surface. However, she had become aware that Beckett had been thinking about her and allowed herself to listen in, though she avoided probing past the accepted barrier between surface and deep thought. She was amused by what she found, though she understood the lieutenant's reservations. She was interested in his thoughts about Dupin, but before he got the chance to dwell on his cousin's stories, Hurst had come in and distracted him. Usually the executive officer would, like the captain, study the personnel records of all that were going to be on board, but because of the short notice given to her, D'Zira hadn't had the time to do this. Instead, she had spent the previous evening reading up on personnel, and had been studying a profile on the padd she was reading on the bridge. The connection with Beckett broken and with the captain on the bridge, she tucked the padd away for later.

"What is the plan for today, Captain?" she asked. Hurst glanced at the view screen, with its display of unknown stars moving languidly as the ship glided through the cosmos at impulse speed.

"We start exploring," he said. "Tay, I understand that two systems were detected within a hundred light years of our position?"

"Yes, Captain. Both contain a class M world," was the reply. "But neither of them is directly on our route."

"How much deviation?" Hurst asked.

"The larger, nearer system would take us approximately a day off course," Tay answered.

"I think we can manage that," Hurst said, unconcerned.

"Q said that she would like to help us. Perhaps she should come up here, and tell us anything she knows about this sector," suggested D'Zira, as an afterthought.

"Perhaps," said Hurst, not sounding too keen.

"You will have to learn to trust her, Captain, if she is to learn anything at all," said D'Zira.

"I know, but I don't want to go running to her every time we see the potential for alien life. Starfleet and the Federation didn't rely on the Q continuum to explore the universe in the past, and I'm not about to change that." Hurst was adamant in his reply. He settled back in his chair. "Orea, set a course, warp five." The order given, everybody returned to their business. Whilst their technology was advanced, people were still needed to oversee things and with new data coming in all the time, most teams were busy. In between keeping in touch with the various department heads, Hurst took time to reflect on his initial impressions of his crew. Dupin was obviously very keen and forthright – perhaps too much so. Of all his senior officers, she was the only one he had been advised _not_ to have. Her previous commanding officer had candidly stated that she was just too 'difficult'. However, Hurst had gone ahead – and made her the senior science officer to boot, despite her only being an ensign. He knew that her scientific skills had never been in question, and he identified with her drive and he hoped that by giving her a position of responsibility, she would have a positive outlet through which to channel her ambition.

As for the others, Orea appeared to be amiable and competent, but he had not done too much so far to give Hurst a real impression. Beckett's former captain had given nothing but praise to Hurst – in fact, his whole record painted a picture of a loyal officer who had the potential to pursue an extremely successful career. Truman was a hard worker. Hurst had captained him on his previous command, when the chief engineer had been a junior grade lieutenant. Truman had been the only senior officer other than Wheeler whom Hurst had offered a position to outright. Tay was very nervous, but Hurst expected that, and was sure that his confidence would grow. He was worried that Dupin's competitiveness might make the Bajoran hold back, but he'd see how things would develop. And then there was D'Zira. Hurst had tried not to let the incident with Wheeler interrupt things between them, but it was still very much on his mind – though he didn't feel particularly comfortable dwelling too much on the matter whilst in her presence, with her telepathic skills. However, it was still very early days and perhaps in time they'd build a friendship of their own. Even if they didn't, he owed it to the rest of the crew to be professional towards her.

* * *

Whilst everyone was absorbed in the newness of where they were and busy scanning everything from particles to distant, massive stars, the young Q was moping round her quarters. She had woken up later than everyone else, not bound yet by the same rules as the rest of the crew. She had then realised that she was hungry, but had had no idea what to eat. So she had asked the computer for suggestions, and had spent a couple of hours trying out different dishes until she couldn't eat any more. Then, remembering the doctor's suggestion, she once again grilled the computer, this time in search of a name. Now she was stuck as to what to do with her time and wishing, not for the first time, that she hadn't agreed to give up her omnipotence. She climbed onto her bed, and looked out of the window, longing to be able to play amongst the stars again.

After a while, she realised that no amount of wishing was going to make a member of the Continuum come and fetch her and make her into a Q again. She also realised that nobody had come to see her since yesterday. The two worst things in the universe for a Q were to feel ignored and alone. She felt both. With a shake of her short auburn curls, Q marched out of her quarters and made her way to the bridge.

"Captain!" Her snappy tone made everyone jump and turn round to stare at her. Dupin rolled her eyes, and muttered something under her breath. Hurst realised that he had forgotten about the young Q and felt a little guilty. Q made her way down to where Hurst and D'Zira were sat.

"What can I do for you, Q?" Hurst asked. Q stood rather haughtily in front of him.

"I was wondering, Captain, when I was going to be given something to do on this lump of metal?" she demanded.

"To do?" Hurst replied, looking blank.

"Well, surely you can't expect me to just spend my time sat in my quarters? You must have something I can do? I'm supposed to be learning, after all," Q said. Hurst recovered himself.

"Of course," he said. "To be honest Q, I haven't really thought about it. Do you have any idea what you would like to do?"

"I can do anything – engineering, cartography, science. I don't mind what I do so long as you give me something. I'm going out of my mind with boredom!" Q replied. Hurst nodded.

"I think we might need some help in Engineering. I'll have a word with Lieutenant Truman," he told her. Q smiled, seeming to be satisfied with this.

"And one more thing," she said, and looked to everybody on the bridge. "From this moment onwards, you can call me Quella."

"Quella," Hurst acknowledged with a nod of his head. The newly christened Q remained standing in front of him, twiddling her fingers and gazing around the bridge, obviously unsure of what she was to do now that she had aired her grievances.

"I can stay on the bridge, can't I?" she asked, before anyone could pass comment. Everyone except Hurst looked at her sharply. Hurst simply smiled wryly.

"Just for a short while, until we're done with the system we're about to visit." He got up and pulled out a spare seat next to him that was hidden away in the fittings. Quella sat down, looking pleased with herself. She sat quietly, watching everyone going about their jobs. Hurst glanced over to the Ops station, where D'Zira was quietly discussing something with Tay, before his gaze settled once more on Quella. He made a snap decision.

"I think that this evening, we should all have dinner together in the Hub," he suggested to the whole of the bridge. "It'd be a celebration of our arrival here in Andromeda, and I'm sure we would all benefit from getting to know each other better." There was a murmur of agreement in response. Satisfied, Hurst returned his attention to more work related matters.

Sometime later, and the _Genesis Millennia_ had entered the outskirts of the solar system that was their destination. An impressive thirteen planets were in orbit around the parent star. The class M was the fifth closest. They had detected signs of an advanced civilization, which as far as they could tell from sensor data, appeared to be thriving. It was strange then, that despite the world having a comprehensive planetary defence system, its inhabitants were seemingly absent from their celestial neighbourhood. Upon confirmation from Beckett that the defence systems were in working order despite their evident age, Hurst decided not to take the ship further into the system and that they would have to carry out their observations from afar.

"Let's take a look at it," said Hurst. Tay obediently instructed the computer to display an image of the mysterious world. Hurst stood up to look closer at the view screen. The sight of a world from space never ceased to fascinate him. The planet was a little larger than Earth. Rather than the blue and white marble of home, this world was a burgundy and frosty pink marble and host to two sizable moons. It looked very pretty.

"Unusual. They know enough to have defences, yet there's not a smidgen of a warp signature," Hurst mused. He felt a pang of disappointment that the situation looked not to offer the first Andromeda first contact he had hoped for.

"They don't necessarily have to be warp capable to be aware of other people in the galaxy. It could be that the neighbours aren't friendly," Beckett offered. "The other system we detected isn't all that distant."

"Or they themselves are not," said D'Zira. "Vulcan did not look too dissimilar for some time."

"True," Hurst replied, deciding not to pass too much comment whilst he was unsure of how she felt about recent Vulcan history. He continued to look at the planet, debating in his mind whether or not to risk attempting contact.

"Captain, we're being hailed," said Tay. Hurst clasped his hands behind his back, cautiously hopeful.

"Put them on screen then." The planet disappeared and instead a pale, green-skinned man appeared. He looked vaguely reptilian, with what appeared to be scales on his hands and the sides of his face. His expression was somewhat cold.

"Please identify yourself and your business in our system," he said, brusquely.

"I am Captain Hurst, of the Federation Starship _Genesis Millennia_. We are passing through your system and..."

"Nobody simply "passes through" a star system. Our scanners show you had stopped and were scanning our planet," the man interrupted, coolly.

"We are explorers. We were gathering information for our database," Hurst told him.

"Did we give you permission to scan our planet?"

"Well…no," Hurst admitted. "But it is not interfering with your business, is it?"

"We don't like outsiders. Our planet is a self-contained society. There is nothing I wish to share with you, and nothing that you can show us that will amaze us," the alien said.

"I don't ask for you to share anything with us," Hurst said. "All we are interested in is mapping your solar system."

"A primitive past time," the man commented.

"Amusing that you think yourselves superior," answered Quella, unable to keep quiet any longer. Hurst gave her a warning look.

"We do not think ourselves superior. We know we are superior. We have long since passed the need to be privy to other societies. Our focus is solely on our society, and what we can achieve," retorted the reptilian, seemingly undaunted by Quella's comment.

"In that case, we will leave you in peace then," Hurst said.

"You may do so," the man said, in a way that suggested "run along and play". He disconnected himself from the communications link. Hurst looked bemused.

"Well, that was a good start," he said.

"Humph! Superior indeed," muttered Quella to herself.

"Guess you couldn't call on them in a crisis," Beckett said.

"They aren't the only civilization that insists on being left alone," Orea said.

"I know, but even the ones back home aren't so… so uninviting," replied Hurst.

"I don't understand how they could have no interest in exploration," Tay commented. He then looked embarrassed at having spoken out loud without prompting. The reason Tay signed up for Starfleet was because he had an overwhelming curiosity about the universe. His class at the Academy had been eligible to apply for the Millennium Mission as their first major assignment. Having passed all the necessary criteria, Tay found himself one of five cadets from his year to be given places. He was determined to make the most of it, despite his inherent shyness. When he found out that he had been chosen as Operations Officer, he had literally dropped his cup of coffee, and had contacted his mother straight away. His mother had been delighted for him, although Tay wished that his father shared the same enthusiasm. Tay's father was a Vedek, and it had been his wish for Tay to follow suit. While he respected his father's beliefs, Tay had no passionate interest in Bajoran politics or religion, seeing it as too intense and inward. Of course it was important to remember the past, but he lived for the future. He hoped that being away for two years would provide some means of allowing their disagreements to ease.

"All the more opportunity for us," Hurst said, in response to Tay's thoughts on the aliens. "Oh well, you may as well take us out of here, Orea, and resume course."

"Aye Captain," Orea said, and entered the coordinates of their flight path. The burgundy planet disappeared from the view screen as the ship swung out towards the stars again, leaving the isolationist society behind.

* * *

Later that day when the chronometers told the crew it was early evening, everyone who was able and willing filed into the Hub, a large multipurpose hall that belied _Genesis_'s small size. It was divided into parts – one for dining, one for recreation, and several seating areas which contained big comfy chairs and were at times subject to fierce competition with regards to usage. The Hub could also be converted into a large, single room should the need arise, for example a conference or a party. For this particular evening though, the Hub remained in its informal form. The senior staff gathered at one table, an occurrence that Hurst didn't want to make a habit of, but thought it suited this particular occasion. Commander D'Zira was still very much the newcomer, and both Doctor Davies and Lieutenant Truman were more often than not away from the bridge. Quella was also welcome at the table, so that Hurst could keep an eye on her.

Lieutenant Truman was the last to arrive, having been working until the last possible moment. He felt a little apprehensive as he took the last remaining seat, which was opposite Orea. The chief engineer didn't really know anyone except the captain, and hadn't really gone out of his way to make friends with the other senior officers. Most of the time, they were on the bridge and he was in engineering, so they were kind of peripheral to his world. However, he soon found that Orea, as a pilot, was quite interested in the workings of the ship. Truman was more than happy to indulge him, and they were quickly in an animated conversation. Beckett was chatting away to Tay, making the young Bajoran laugh with some tale about the Academy. Dr Davies was talking to Quella, who was all too happy to tell him about herself. Dr Davies, unlike a lot of people, was quite amused by the young Q, and also genuinely interested in learning more about her and her kind. Dupin looked across at Quella with loathing, but Hurst took her attention. Pleased that the captain was talking to her, Dupin became determined to impress him. Quella was quickly forgotten as she put all her efforts into charming him; chatting about her career to date and casually mentioning that her father was a captain as well – though he commanded purely science vessels - in an attempt to show that she had some understanding of the burdens of command. Meanwhile, D'Zira sat quietly, listening to the conversation between Quella and the doctor. Orea left the table to fetch some more food, and Truman turned to look at her.

"You're not all Vulcan are you?" he asked, the flowing conversation with Orea leaving him feeling unusually chatty.

"True. I'm half Betazoid," D'Zira replied. Truman's eyebrows shot up in unison.

"The Isolationists would have loved you back on Vulcan," he said, before he could stop himself. Hurst heard his outburst and looked at him sharply. The rest of the table went quiet.

"The unrest on Vulcan caused by the Isolationist government was halted some years ago," D'Zira answered, pointedly.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Commander," Truman apologised.

"I was born and raised on Betazed, away from the troubles on Vulcan. My brother and his family currently live on Vulcan, with no problems," she continued. There had been a Vulcan Isolationist Movement around in some form for almost as long as Vulcans had been exploring space. Almost all Federation planets had similar factions of people wanting to turn their backs on the interstellar community and rid themselves of 'cultural pollution'; however they were a vocal minority in most cases. So had been the story with the Vulcan Isolationist Movement. Somehow though, they began to gain power. Nobody was still quite sure how they did it – though rumours of outside involvement abounded. Perhaps it was simply a case of complacency or maybe everyone in the late 28th century was too busy with the aftermath of a major ruction within the Federation itself to notice. In the end though, however they managed to seize control of the Vulcan government in the early 29th century was irrelevant compared to the horror of the dictatorship that followed. The majority of the Vulcan people did not support the cause, but they were powerless to do anything about it since the ties to the Federation were quickly severed. Those Vulcans that could not, or would not, return to their home planet were in essence stranded and became known as the Displaced.

The Federation, still reeling from matters that had brought it to the brink of a civil war, suffered further at first from the loss of one of its founding members and some historians pointed to that as being a reason why they did not do more to intervene. The Isolationist government began ethnic cleansing, killing those who were not pure Vulcan or who dared to marry outsiders. Even colonies set up by the Displaced were not safe. Eventually, after some two hundred years, the Federation finally stepped in and helped the ordinary Vulcan people dispatch the Isolationists. They set about rebuilding their society with remarkable deftness and though a few more years were needed to completely smooth things out, Vulcan looked to have recovered.

"The Isolationists were not confined to Vulcan though, were they?" Beckett said, remembering that sometimes people were struck down throughout the Federation by the merciless regime.

"No, they weren't. They killed my father," D'Zira replied.

"Your father?" echoed Dupin.

"My father was Japhen D'Zira, the President of Betazed." Recognition of the name immediately registered with everyone on the table. Japhen D'Zira was assassinated some twenty years ago by persons unknown. It eventually came out through the investigation that followed that he had been killed by agents of the Vulcan Isolationist government as a high-profile victim to serve as an example to others. Betazed with its generally pacifist society had been outraged and demanded action from the Federation Council. Japhen's death had been the catalyst for the Federation to finally move in.

"It must have been hard for you," Orea said, sympathetically, as he sat back down. His sensitive ears had easily picked up the conversation whilst he was away from the table.

"Of course," was all D'Zira said. They all sat in silence, the mood somewhat dampened. Truman felt rather wretched and wished the ground would swallow him down to Engineering. Even Quella looked solemn. Lieutenant Beckett was the one brave enough to break the gloom.

"So, anybody for Ktarian bean stew?" he said brightly. It did the trick. Soon everyone was back into conversation, the exception being D'Zira. Truman had unwittingly stirred up some painful memories for the Vulcan-Betazoid. She remembered the night when she had awoken with a start and sat bolt upright in her bed with the feeling that something terrible had happened to her father, something so bad that she had gone to wake her mother. She remembered the confirmation from Federation officials that her father, who she had been very close to, was dead. She remembered having to go into hiding for several days in case the Isolationists were trying to hunt down the rest of Japhen's family, her brother, then only nine, too young to understand the politics behind his father's death. D'Zira herself had been fifteen and understood only too well. Vulcan may well have been restored to its former glory, and Vulcans everywhere had their freedom, but even after all these years she still found it difficult to be happy for them.


	6. Deadly Explorations

Several days seemed to drift by, though the crew were not idle in that time. There was much work to be done, processing information into different priorities, doing general maintenance work and compiling reports to be studied when they returned to Earth. In a quiet moment, Hurst summoned Lieutenant Truman into his ready room.

"Lieutenant, I have a proposal for you."

"Yes, Captain?"

"You could do with an extra pair of hands in Engineering, I understand?"

"Always."

"Well, I was wondering if you would be prepared to take Quella on, at least, for the time being."

"Quella? Oh, yeah. The Q," Truman replied, forgetting their "guest". His brow furrowed as he contemplated the question, not really wanting to take the Q on, but not wanting to let down his Captain either.

"Would you like some time to contemplate this?" Hurst asked. Truman looked at him.

"No, Captain. I'll have her down in engineering. I'll assign her some basic tasks, and we'll see how we go from there," he replied. Hurst nodded.

"Good. I'll tell Quella that you'll be expecting her first thing tomorrow morning," he said. Truman knew that he was dismissed and nodded in acknowledgement before he left. He looked out over the bridge before descending down the stairs from the ready room. For a moment he wished that he could be based up here more, but then that feeling disappeared. Truman was happier messing around in engineering away from having the Captain peering over his shoulder. It was his own little world down there, and he hated having it interrupted unnecessarily.

Truman was a brilliant engineer and graduated top of his year for this at the Academy, having entered on a scholarship. He could do mathematical problems in his head that most people struggled to do on paper. He would be very unlikely to ever captain his own starship though, unless it was specifically assigned for engineering purposes. He was not the all-rounder that Starfleet expected its captains to be. Ask him about anything other than the workings of the ship, and he tended to be flummoxed. The conversation with Orea over dinner the other night had lifted Truman's spirits somewhat. The mission was proving to be more difficult than he had first thought, not from a technical point of view, but the fact that it had recently dawned on him just how far from home they were. But he had a job to get on with. He knew that Hurst was expecting a lot from him. He turned his thoughts to Quella. His gut feeling had told him to expect the Q to be assigned to him when she first arrived. Never mind, there were plenty of jobs in Engineering to keep her occupied. And if she didn't like them… Well, there were plenty of other places the captain could put her. The nearest habitable planet would be preferable.

* * *

The beeping of a sensor caught Tay's attention.

"Sir, we're approaching a star system, five light years away."

"Can you tell anything about it?"

"Eight planets, one class C, one class D, two class J, one class K, two class M, one class P," Tay replied. Naturally, Hurst was interested in the two class M planets.

"Life forms?" he asked.

"Difficult to say," Tay replied, frowning slightly as he tried to make sense of the data coming in.

"Okay, we'll go closer and take a better look," Hurst said. "Orea, take us into the system."

"The M class planets are the third and fourth in the system," Tay said. As they got closer, he was able to better translate the data that was being picked up by the sensors.

"The fourth planet is twenty-five percent land and is uninhabited by humanoid life forms," he said. "The third planet is slightly larger. There are six continental landmasses."

"Any sign of life?" Hurst asked.

"I'm not sure," Tay said, the frown returning to his face.

"We're within sensor range," Hurst said.

"I know. I'm not picking up any surface humanoid activity." He looked up at Hurst. "It looks as if there is some underground."

"Underground?" Hurst echoed. He brought up the information on the console by his chair.

"Yes, sir," Tay said, hoping that he was correct. Hurst studied the information himself, as did D'Zira. A nod from her confirmed that Tay had been right.

"There is no sign of technology, at least, there is none present on the surface," Beckett said.

"Any reason why a civilisation should be underground?" Hurst asked.

"None that I can see," Tay said.

"Well," Hurst said. "I think that we should go down and take a look for ourselves." He had been waiting for an opportunity for his crew to have an away mission, and this seemed like it. He turned to his first officer.

"Commander, would you like to pick a team and beam down to the surface?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," she replied, rising gracefully. Hurst could have sworn he saw eagerness in her green eyes, but it was gone a moment later as she scanned the bridge crew.

"Lieutenant Beckett, Lieutenant Naron, Ensign Jenson, Ensign Dupin," she said quickly and led the way to the turbolift. Dupin was startled to hear her name called out, but recovered quickly and obediently followed the others. Together, the five of them beamed down onto the surface of the largest continent, where the heaviest concentrations of life forms were. Tricorders in hand, they scanned their immediate surroundings. The place that they had been beamed to was savannah-like in first appearances, although in the distance there were mountains, and not far off was a rocky ravine.

"Beckett, Jenson, you work in that direction," D'Zira said, pointing towards a rocky outcrop that led towards the ravine. "Naron, Dupin, you go in that direction," she continued, indicating a line of trees. "I shall go towards the river. We will meet back here in fifteen minutes." They split up into their teams, fanning out as they got further away from each other. Dupin barely spoke to her companion, Lieutenant Naron. She was too busy trying to get the first clue of the apparent civilization on this planet. She was also still surprised that D'Zira had picked her for the away team. Dupin had thought that the Commander did not think much of her. Certainly Dupin had not warmed too much to D'Zira. Well, this was the opportunity to show the Vulcan-Betazoid a thing or two. Dupin was very confident in her own abilities, and was sure that she would make at least junior grade lieutenant by the end of their two year mission. She'd be promoted before that cowardly little Bajoran at any rate. Dupin snorted to herself. If she'd picked the crew, she certainly wouldn't have included Tay Barlis. And she definitely would have told Quella where to go. Dupin respected the captain, but still thought that he was mad for accepting the Q on board. She jabbed at the keypad on the tricorder. Out of all the senior officers, she could say that it was only Captain Hurst that she liked so far. The rest she had either taken a disliking to, or was indifferent to them.

Actually, she had taken a liking to the captain in more ways than one. She had been rather chuffed to have been picked by Hurst for his senior crew, not only because that meant he recognised her obvious scientific talents, but because she also liked the idea of having a younger captain than her previous commanding officer. He had been the wrong end of middle aged and definitely rather middle of the road. At first Dupin had concentrated her efforts on securing a place on the Millennium Mission. However, with that objective safely completed, she could allow herself to indulge in other matters. At the crew dinner the other night, she had taken in Hurst's features, from his blue eyes to the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. Oh, he definitely gave her that warm, fuzzy feeling. So she had been working harder than ever to keep on his good side. The odds were extremely high that he was single. Maybe she could find a way of sharing a coffee alone with him. As far as she knew, not even Commander D'Zira had been invited for that yet…

"Look out!" Naron's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see that she was about to walk smack into a tree. She looked over to where the Trill was standing with an amused look on his face.

"They say that you're keen, but don't knock yourself out," he called. Dupin mustered up a smile before returning to monitoring her tricorder. She cursed herself for losing her concentration on her work. There was plenty of time to daydream later. The task at hand was all that should matter right now. With an annoyed sigh, she put the captain out of her mind.

Meanwhile, D'Zira was progressing along by herself. One eye was on her tricorder, the other on her surroundings. She was picking up nothing on the tricorder that indicated life signs, and could sense no one except for the others in the away team, but something told her that they were being watched. She tapped at her combadge.

"D'Zira to Hurst. We're not picking up anything so far."

"_Okay, keep looking. Tay's trying to modify the sensors so we can get a definite fix on their location_," Hurst replied.

"I think that they are close," D'Zira said. "I wonder if there is something in the soil that is affecting our tricorders. The ship's sensors seem fine. Perhaps it's because they are more powerful."

"_If you find nothing, collect a sample and bring it back_," Hurst said.

"I will do," D'Zira said, and cut the connection. She scuffed at the ground with her boot. The grass easily came away to reveal the sandy soil underneath. Suddenly, she found herself turning back in the direction that Beckett and Jenson had gone in. A fraction of a second later, Beckett contacted her.

"_Commander! Chris has disappeared!_" He sounded bewildered.

"What do you mean?" she asked him, although she was aware that she no longer had a telepathic awareness of the ensign. She began to make her way to his position.

"_He's just gone_," Beckett said. "_I turned away from him for just a few seconds and when I looked back he wasn't there_."

"Could he have fallen into the ravine?"

"_No, we're not close enough_," Beckett replied. D'Zira contacted the other two members of the away team, feeling fortunate that they had not got too far away.

"Naron, Dupin, make your way over to where Lieutenant Beckett is," she ordered.

"_We're already on our way_," came Naron's reply. D'Zira arrived at Ewan's side first. He gestured to the spot where Ensign Jenson had last been seen.

"He was right there. I don't understand. There is nowhere for him to go." Dupin and Naron arrived, gasping for breath as they had ran from the line of trees. D'Zira looked around her. Beckett was right. There was nowhere for Jenson to have disappeared to… She suddenly realised that a presence was below them and looked at Beckett.

"Move," she said to him, but she did not have the chance to see if the lieutenant obeyed her order for something grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her down into the ground, as easily and as quickly as water going down a drain. Gasping for breath whilst trying to clear the soil from her face, she quickly realised that she was in some sort of small cavern. She cleared the rest of the dust from her eyes, only to look up and see a hideous face looking down at her. A huge creature – that was the only way she could have described it - deathly pale from the lack of sunlight, with large dark eyes, a small flat nose and a slit of a mouth still had her by the ankles. The creature then seemed to almost grin, which was when D'Zira saw what looked like razor sharp fangs, a good inch or so in length. She went to reach for her phaser, but found that it wasn't there. She heard noises, and realised that the other three had also been pulled from the surface. Naron was unconscious. At least, that's what D'Zira hoped. There seemed to be no sign of Jenson. She tried to read the creature's mind, but for whatever reason, she could only sense their emotions. Their state of mind gave her enough cause for concern without knowing what their exact intentions were.

"Who are you?" she asked, keeping her voice a typical Vulcan monotone. The creature did not reply, instead it turned to his companions and grunted some sort of instruction. She then felt a tug on her ankles as the creature began pulling her along the floor of the cavern. She heard Dupin and Beckett cry out as they bumped along the rocky surface - Dupin being the one who was more vociferous in her language. D'Zira was thankful that she had inherited her mother's high pain tolerance else she might have added a few choice Betazoid words to Dupin's bilingual outburst. After what seemed forever, the four of them were put in some sort of cage. D'Zira collected herself together.

"Are you alright?" she asked Dupin and Beckett. They nodded, though they both looked rather dazed. D'Zira turned her attention to Naron, still out of things on the floor. She knelt down and checked his vitals. Thankfully, he was only unconscious. Dupin shrugged out of the jacket of her uniform.

"I suppose we'll all need new uniforms," she said, holding what had been a black jacket with a gold collar and trim in front of her and surveying the damage. "That's if we get out of here." She inspected the various cuts and bruises on her arms. God knows what her back looked like. It was sore, at any rate. She tied the material around her waist, in case her trousers were in a similar state.

"Of course we'll get out of here," Beckett said, trying to look at a gash on the back of his arm. D'Zira put a cautious hand between her shoulders to find the spot wet with blood. She did the same as Dupin had done, and removed her ragged jacket to try and judge the injury better. At least the blue t-shirt she wore underneath was mostly intact, though if Dupin's gold one was anything to go by it was a mess at the back. She looked at the green smear on her fingers then wiped her hand on her trouser leg.

"We'll have to manage the best we can until we can get back to the ship," she said.

"Were you able to find out what those things want with us?" Beckett asked.

"No. I was not able to read their minds. They are obviously immune from serious probing into their thoughts. However, I was able to sense their emotions," she replied.

"What could you gather from that?" Dupin asked.

"They are primitive in their emotions," D'Zira said. "I believe that they have a strong hunting instinct."

"You mean we're dinner?" Beckett asked.

"We could be anything to them, however, that is a strong possibility," D'Zira replied.

"Great. That's just great," Dupin said. "Do you think that Chris was taken for them to examine first?"

"I believe that is true, however I think that Ensign Jenson has already suffered whatever fate that these people have planned for us," D'Zira told them. "I cannot detect him." There was a silence, which was interrupted by Lieutenant Naron coming round.

"What happened?" he groaned, trying to sit up. Beckett and Dupin helped get him comfortable.

"Welcome back, Jez," Beckett said. Naron put a hand on his back.

"My back feels as if someone's kicked it in," he said.

"That's not far off," Beckett said. Naron looked to the commander for an explanation, which she gave. At the end, he looked anxiously at his three companions.

"Have you tried to contact the ship?" he asked.

"Not yet," D'Zira said. She looked at the remains of her jacket. Her communicator had been lost along with her phaser. The others searched for theirs. Dupin shook her head, as did Naron. However, Beckett's combadge had somehow stayed in place. He tried to use it, but got no response. He took it off his jacket, and inspected it.

"Looks as if it's damaged," he said. "I can't see how I can repair it without the proper tools." Dupin gave an annoyed sigh. Her hand fell on something at her waist.

"I've still got my phaser," she said.

"So have I," Naron said.

"Good," said D'Zira. "We should start to work out a plan."

"What's there to work out? Let's just get the hell out of here," Dupin said.

"That's all very well, Ensign, but unless you happen to know the way out, how do you propose we escape?" D'Zira asked. Dupin resisted the urge to retort, and instead looked back at the commander. D'Zira ignored the younger woman, and turned to examine the cage they were in, as did Beckett.

"I reckon we could phaser the lock easily enough," he said. "It's hardly high tech security."

"Agreed," said D'Zira. She tried to peer past the cage into the darkness beyond. There was barely any light down the dark corridor. She tried to work out how near any of the creatures were, but with them being almost completely immune to telepathy it was difficult. Still, she managed to get a general feel for the area surrounding them.

"There are larger concentrations of them in that direction," she said, pointing to the left.

"So we avoid going that way," said Naron. "Where do we go in the opposite direction?"

"We were on the edge of a ravine. So I suppose we are limited in our choice. There was a river nearby, wasn't there?" said Beckett.

"Yes, there was," said D'Zira.

"Well, it flowed over part of the cliff. So maybe there's a weak spot in that area," said Beckett.

"And how do we find this weak spot?" asked Dupin.

"We have to look for it, I guess," said Beckett. "When we are close to where the waterfall is, we should be able to hear it, and then we follow the sound."

"Sounds foolproof," Dupin said, sarcastically.

"Can you come up with a better idea?" Beckett retorted. "If you can, we'd better hear it quick."

"Lieutenant," D'Zira warned. "I think that we should follow your idea. We need to try and stay as close to the surface as possible. I suspect that for the most part, these passages and caves lead downwards."

"Yes, I think so too," said Beckett. D'Zira looked at Naron and Dupin.

"Those phasers are our only weapons against those creatures. Only use them if you really have to. We want the charge to last as long as possible," she said.

"Yes Commander," Naron replied. Dupin said nothing. Naron turned to the lock on the door of the cage.

"Well, here it goes," he said, and fired on the lock. Almost instantly, the door of the cage sprung open and the four officers stepped out.

"This way," said D'Zira. "The light is poor. We should stay close together." Nobody said anything else as they carefully stepped out of the small cave they were in and out into the dark passageway.

Some fifteen minutes passed, and they seemed to be no closer to finding their way out.

"I think we've taken a wrong turn somewhere," Naron said. "We seem to be going down, not up."

"We should turn back then," said Dupin.

"No," D'Zira said. She frowned slightly. "We're being followed. We should keep going."

"But what if we're being driven into a trap?" Dupin asked.

"We cannot risk turning round," D'Zira said. They pressed forwards, looking for any possible escape route. The passageway opened out into another cave. A rank smell filled their nostrils. Unsure of what they were going to find, they went into the cave. The light was just enough for them to see piles of carcasses around them – animal, humanoid, others that were indistinguishable. Towards the end of the cave, there was a body that was half-dressed in a familiar uniform.

"It's Chris!" Dupin exclaimed, but she was unable to go closer. D'Zira knelt down by the body.

"I am no medical expert, but it looks as if he has been completely drained of his blood," she said. Beckett gingerly looked at the corpse.

"There seems to be some initial puncture marks on his shoulder," he said.

"Vampires," Dupin muttered, remembering the fangs in the creature's mouth.

"Not quite," Beckett said, noting an incision on Jenson's neck, where the jugular vein was. "But close enough, I guess."

"We've got to get out of here," Naron said, a degree of desperation in his voice.

"Yes. It's a shame we'll have to leave Chris here," Beckett said.

"We can hold a full service back on board the ship," D'Zira reminded him. "But in the meantime, we must avoid the same fate as his." She looked up sharply. "They are close. We must move quickly." The other three followed the commander towards the exit of the cave. Even as they reached it, they heard heavy footsteps entering from the opposite end. Dupin was just able to distinguish two of the creatures in the dim light, and took hold of her phaser as a precaution. As she followed the others down the passageway, she could hear their growls and grunts echoing from the cave behind.

"I think that they're gaining," she called. D'Zira acknowledged her comment by quickening the pace. What D'Zira herself did not tell the rest of the group was that she had worked out that the creatures were tracking them by the smell of the blood that each of them was giving off from their various cuts sustained when they were unceremoniously dragged to the cage. If they couldn't find a way out soon, their fate was certain. She suddenly sensed another creature coming towards them.

"Get your phaser ready, Lieutenant," she said to Naron. "Dupin, keep our backs covered." The two officers did as they were told.

"I can see it," Naron said, able to make out the bulk of the creature some distance down the passageway.

"The light from the phaser beam should give them as much a shock as anything," Beckett said.

"True, but I think that it is best if the creatures are completely stunned," D'Zira replied. Beckett heard the growl from the creature in front of them.

"Me too," he said.

"Can you feel a faint breeze?" Naron asked. "There must be a way out nearby."

"Let's hope we get to it," Beckett replied. They carefully inched forwards.

"Almost in range," Naron said.

"I think I can see the two following us," Dupin said, gritting her teeth. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the creature's faces. There was suddenly a burst of light as Naron fired on the creature in front of them. It let out a cry of pain, from the flash of light, but it was not knocked out. After recovering, it came forwards again, this time with even more determination. Naron put the phaser on the next level of power and tried again. He injured the creature, but it was still able to come at them.

"I'm going to have to set the phaser to kill," Naron said.

"Go ahead," said D'Zira. Dupin wasted no time in doing the same. The two creatures that were following them were almost with them as well. She fired and managed to hit one.

"It worked!" she said, and got ready to take aim at the next one. Naron finally managed to get rid of his assailant.

"There's more coming," D'Zira said. Dupin dispatched the other creature, but even as she did so, there was the sound of more heavy footsteps from both directions. Carefully, they pressed on a little bit further, determined to get out of the caves.

"I can see some of them," Naron said.

"There are three in that direction," D'Zira told him. "Four coming from behind."

"Great," Dupin said, getting ready to fire again. "I'll try a warning shot. Maybe that will slow them." She aimed down the passage. There came more growls of pain, but then the heavy footsteps were heard again.

"I think you just made them angry," Beckett said. Dupin scowled at him. Naron tried firing on the three in front of them again.

"We can't keep this up," he said.

"I didn't come all this way to die in a cave," Dupin retorted. She took aim and felled another of the creatures. Beckett felt a tremor.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I think they're coming through the side of the passage," D'Zira said.

"How?" Beckett asked. D'Zira didn't have time to reply as the rock opposite them crumbled and two more creatures emerged. Quick as a whip, Naron fired on them, however, he had enabled one of the creatures in front of them to get too close.

"Jez, look out!" Beckett called, but it was too late. The creature grabbed Naron and sank its teeth into his shoulder. The Trill yelled in pain. D'Zira picked up his dropped phaser and fired. As she did so, the passageway disappeared, and the main transporter room of Genesis appeared. Dupin blinked in surprise, whilst Beckett let out a sigh of relief. Two officers came forward and picked up Lieutenant Naron in order to rush him to sickbay. His shoulder was pouring blood where the creature had bitten him. The other three officers helped each other to their feet and followed.

A short period in sickbay had allowed Dr Davies to tend to their injuries. Naron had to stay in for a little while because of his blood loss and some concern over the effect on his symbiont from toxins released through the creature's bite, but he was expected to be okay. Dupin, Beckett and D'Zira were free to go as soon as the doctor had healed their cuts and bruises. The only thing he prescribed was a wash and a good rest. D'Zira had just finished in the shower, and had ordered a hot beverage from the replicator. It was one occasion where she could have done with a hydro shower rather than a hypersonic shower – sometimes you needed more than a thirty second sweep to feel cleansed and refreshed. She had been meaning to speak to Lieutenant Truman about getting a dual hydro-sonic shower put in instead. As she rubbed part of her head, she made a mental note to go down to Engineering first thing next shift. She had a headache from the strain of constantly having to rely on empathy rather than outright telepathy. She tried to put the thought of the creatures out of her mind. They had been beamed up from the caves just in time. She had given the captain a brief outline of what had happened to them, but he insisted that she go and get cleaned up and rested before giving him a more detailed version. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind but suddenly sensed the presence of the captain. The sound from the door confirmed the feeling.

"Come in," she said, already sitting up on her couch. Hurst entered the room.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Commander," he said. "I just thought I'd come and see how you were."

"I am fine," D'Zira replied. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you." Hurst came and sat down next to her.

"How is Lieutenant Naron?" she asked.

"He's fine," Hurst said. He looked at her a little more intently. "I'm sorry that the first away mission turned into such a dangerous outing."

"That is the chance that you take," D'Zira replied.

"I know. Hopefully the next one will be less traumatic," Hurst said.

"I think that everyone coped well under the circumstances," D'Zira said. Hurst decided that he needed to be a bit more direct.

"A death is not the nicest thing to happen at the best of times, never mind your first mission," he said.

"That was not the first away team I have led," D'Zira replied.

"But it was the first time that an officer has been killed," Hurst persisted.

"It was," D'Zira said. "If you are questioning my abilities…"

"I'm not. I'm asking how you feel," Hurst said, feeling that his first officer was deliberately trying to throw him off the scent. She appeared to search him for something and then her expression softened a little. For the first time since he'd known her, she seemed to be less determined to cling onto Vulcan stoicism.

"I'm sorry that Ensign Jenson was killed," she said, eventually. "I have gone over the situation in my mind, but I cannot see where I could have done something to prevent his death."

"I have yet to have a full report from you, but I don't think that there was anything you could have done, either," he said. "The others said that you did a good job."

"I really don't see how," she said. "I lost an officer and I did not get us out of the situation." Her sudden candidness surprised him a little, but he was glad of it.

"Perhaps, but you held things together all the same," he said. She appeared to almost shrug. Hurst decided that he should go.

"I would like it if you could join me tomorrow evening for a coffee," he said. "We haven't really had a chance to talk to each other in depth since we met."

"Yes, it has been an eventful few days," D'Zira agreed.

"Good. I shall see you on the bridge tomorrow morning," Hurst said, rising from his seat. "Goodnight, Ellenabi."

"Goodnight, Captain," D'Zira replied, watching him leave. She took a sip from her drink and settled back down, trying once again to empty her mind.


	7. Another Day

The alarm went off at 0600 hours. Quella turned over and grumbled. What was so important on this lump of metal that meant its inhabitants had to subject themselves to such strict and silly hours? Besides, now she was becoming used to sleep, she found that she quite enjoyed it. She didn't think that she had had a dream yet, but that would probably come in time. The second alarm call forced her out of bed, and she blearily made her way to the replicator to get some breakfast. Food was not quite as much of a novelty as sleep. As a Q, she could eat if she wanted to, but did not have to. Since it was now a necessity, she had become rather fond of Bolian pancakes and honey nut cornflakes for breakfast – though not together, of course. After her meal, she got washed and dressed and then proceeded down to engineering. Not knowing what to expect, but not letting that affect her, she straightened her shoulders and exited the turbolift in her usual confident manner. She approached the chief of engineering.

"I'm here," she announced, with a small flurry of her arms. Lieutenant Truman looked at her, not quite managing to hide the fact he was unimpressed.

"Didn't anyone explain protocol to you?" he asked.

"I'm not in Starfleet," Quella replied, loftily.

"I don't care," Truman replied. "You're counted as a member of crew now, and furthermore, a member of my department. You will adhere to the same rules as everyone else here. Understand?"

"Perfectly…Lieutenant. Sir," Quella replied, trying to appear unaffected. She was actually surprised by Truman's outburst. As a person in charge, he was certainly different from the man who she had seen sat at the dinner table the other night. Truman simply gave her a look in return.

"First things first. I'll show you some basic equipment," he said. "Then I'll set you some tasks."

"Okay," Quella said, not sure if she liked the sound of that. Truman led her over to a workbench, where various gadgets were laid out.

"You probably know that's a tricorder," Truman began, picking it up and passing it to her.

"Of course," Quella replied, pressing some random buttons. It made a sudden beeping noise, causing her to drop it. Truman bent down and picked it up, resetting it.

"We'll have a lesson on using one in a moment," he said, placing it back on the table. She just beamed at him in response. He handed her the next piece of equipment.

"Sonic screwdriver," he said, and handed her another object. "This looks similar, but it's a molecular hammer. It's for very detailed repairs."

"Right," Quella said. Truman passed her a larger, slightly curved object.

"Laser saw," he said. "Be careful with it, else you'll be minus an arm."

"How lovely," Quella commented. Truman ran through the rest of the tools.

"Pliers, sonic cutter, multi-meter, molecular patcher, electro-charger. I think that's all the basics. Now, let's have a look at using a tricorder."

"I'm not stupid, you know," Quella replied, not impressed with the tone of his voice. Truman ignored her and picked the tricorder up.

"It's pretty straightforward, once you know what you're doing. Handy little things, tricorders. These days, you can calibrate them to measure almost anything in the local vicinity," Truman explained. He pointed out some buttons.

"That's the mode command, to set the tricorder up for what you're going to scan for – chemicals, radiation, biological matter, etcetera. This is the display command, to let you adjust how the data is shown, for example, as a graph or a figure. That's obviously the display window. 'Store' is self-explanatory, as is 'rec'. This red button here is for emergencies, like if your combadge is lost on an away mission and you're trapped. It emits a signal that is encoded with a Starfleet signature. Am I going too fast?"

"No, not at all," Quella replied, taking all the information in.

"Okay. 'Tog' stands for toggle – allows you to adjust things like units of measurement. 'Lib' is for library, so you can look up certain things for reference, like rock formations. And that's about it, really. I'll set you a task later, to get you used to using it," Truman finished.

"What about these workstations?" Quella asked.

"You'll leave them alone for the time being," Truman replied, sharply. He gestured to her to follow him, which she did.

"This is my workstation," he said. "No one touches this."

"Fair enough," Quella said. She looked towards where the engineering department spread out. "I'd be correct in guessing that thing is the warp core?"

"You would," Truman replied. Quella went closer to the quadruple helix that wound upwards towards the ceiling, seemingly fascinated by the swirling energy inside the tubes. She probably would have stared at it all day if Lieutenant Truman hadn't tapped her on the shoulder.

"Continuing with our tour, Quella, each workstation deals with a different aspect of the ship, although they can be patched together if all our efforts need to be combined to deal with a big problem," Truman explained.

"Didn't help when you first arrived," Quella commented, referring to the strange events they had encountered.

"You never did explain that, did you?" Truman said. Quella shrugged.

"I told the captain," she replied. "That's all that matters."

"Humph," was Truman's reply.

"So, what's my first task?" Quella asked, brightly. Truman was tempted to suggest she go and clean the transporter pad with a toothbrush, but instead he escorted her back to the workbench.

"First, let's set you the tricorder tasks to make sure you know what you're doing, then you can do some basic maintenance checks," he said, passing her the instrument.

* * *

Some hours later, a rather bad tempered Quella stomped along a corridor, muttering to herself. She almost collided with someone as she rounded a corner.

"Hey, watch it!" she snapped, but then recovered herself when she saw that it was Dr Davies. He smiled at her.

"What's the matter with you, then?" he asked. Quella scowled.

"If I had my powers, I'd turn him into a Klariki slug and have him roasted alive in the traditional way the Klarikians like to cook that particular dish."

"Who?" the doctor asked.

"That Chief Engineer is a slave driver," she replied.

"How's that then?" Dr Davies asked.

"He set me all these silly little menial tasks, which was bad enough, but as fast as I tried to do one, he'd tell me to start on something else!" Quella complained.

"I've noticed that Lieutenant Truman expects everyone to be as organised as him," Dr Davies replied. "It's just something you're going to have to get used to."

"I don't want to get used to it!" Quella answered, fiercely.

"We all have to do things we don't like," the doctor reminded her. "Including you."

"We'll see about that," Quella said. "I'm going to see the Captain."

"You've only been there one day," the doctor said. "You should give it longer."

"No thank you," Quella replied. She made to go on her way, but Dr Davies stopped her.

"He'll say the same thing," he warned. "And he might have been nice to you so far, but if you're going to go complaining to him over every little thing you don't happen to like, you'll probably find that he's going to be less than sympathetic."

"Do you think so?" Quella asked, pausing. She had taken a liking to the doctor, and trusted his opinions.

"Yes, I do," Dr Davies answered. He patted her on the arm. "I think the best thing you can do is show Lieutenant Truman that you're better than he thinks."

"I'll try it for a little while longer," Quella replied, subsiding. She felt as if she had an ally in the doctor, and she was prepared to listen to his advice. Dr Davies smiled at her.

"Well, I'd best be on my way. If you ever need to talk, just pop into sickbay, Quella."

"Thank you, Doctor," Quella replied, graciously. They parted ways, Dr Davies going to sickbay, and Quella not sure where she was going. She had wanted to go to see the captain, but since she'd been talked out of that, she had no idea what to do. She didn't feel like going back to her quarters, but she wasn't sure what to do instead. She found herself in the Hub. It was half empty, but those that were there seemed to hush when she entered the room. She ignored them despite her self-consciousness, and went to help herself to a snack from one of the replicators. Looking for a place to sit, she was surprised to hear her name being called.

"Hey, Quella!" It was Lieutenant Beckett. "Why don't you come and sit here?" he asked. Quella saw that he was sat with Ensign Tay and another person that Quella didn't know. Glad that Aimee Dupin wasn't there, Quella went over to them, noting that Tay looked at her nervously. Honestly, was there anything that didn't make the Bajoran resemble a deer caught in headlights? What did he think she was going to do to him? She couldn't do anything now. All that hard work she had done on her first day here seemed to have undone itself by the next morning, much to her chagrin. She hadn't felt like testing anything else after that. She sat down with them.

"What do you want?" she asked, a little too brashly. Beckett seemed a little taken aback.

"Just thought I'd ask how things are going for you," he replied. Quella remembered how much many mortal species, humans included, seemed to value their manners. It annoyed her, for she was used to speaking her mind and not mincing her words about what was coming out, either. All this learning to try and watch her tongue was tiring. But, it was an important part of who she had become, so she managed an apologetic look at Beckett.

"I'm sorry, I've just had my first day down in Engineering," she said.

"How did that go?" Beckett asked.

"Don't ask," Quella muttered.

"It can't be that bad, can it? Lieutenant Truman seems a decent guy," Tay said.

"You should try working for him," Quella replied.

"I've never wanted to work in Engineering," Beckett said.

"I don't blame you," Quella said.

"Being on the bridge is much more exciting," Beckett continued. "And we all get to know each other better. I hardly know Michael at all."

"I spoke to him at that dinner the other evening. He knows his stuff," Tay said.

"He'd better," Beckett replied. "I don't want to be stranded here because the engines have gone kaput."

"I don't want to be stranded here either," Tay said.

"Neither do I," Quella added. They sat in silence.

"Well, we all agree on something," Beckett said eventually. He looked at Quella, curiously.

"What do you know about Andromeda?" he asked.

"You might be surprised to know that it's not everything," she answered. "I told the captain that I usually spent my time elsewhere."

"Why's that?" Beckett asked.

"The universe is a big place, Lieutenant. There are many wonders I've seen that humans, Bajorans and the rest of the inhabitants of our home galaxy will never see. Andromeda might well have been the place that you have aimed for since you got bored of a small portion of the Milky Way, but personally, I don't think it's necessarily where the party is, if you know what I mean," Quella said.

"One small step for Q is one giant leap for everyone else," Beckett reminded her, paraphrasing Neil Armstrong's famous words. Quella couldn't help smiling at this comment.

"Are there others like Q in the universe?" Tay asked.

"The Q do not exist as you do," Quella replied, after a slight hesitation.

"That wasn't my question," Tay said.

"It's beyond the understanding of mortals," Quella replied quickly, using a favourite Q excuse.

"Try us," Beckett said, quite jovially, though he wanted a proper explanation from her. She seemed to have something interesting to hide. However, at that moment they were interrupted by the captain entering the hall. He acknowledged the few members of crew that were present with a nod and a smile.

"Just passing through," he said. He spotted Quella with Tay and Beckett.

"Hello Quella. How was Engineering?" he asked.

"So so," Quella replied, remembering Dr Davies's words.

"Lieutenant Truman thought that you did quite well," Hurst replied.

"He did?" Quella asked, surprised. Hurst smiled at her.

"Yes." He looked at Beckett and Tay. "I'll see you two on the bridge tomorrow. Have a good evening."

"Thank you, Captain," Tay replied. When Hurst had gone, Beckett grinned at Quella.

"Can't have been that bad down there after all," he said.

"Obviously not," she replied, though she wondered if Truman had done the same as she had and covered up the truth just to keep Captain Hurst satisfied. Well, time would tell on that.

Hurst meanwhile had an appointment to keep once he had done his usual tour of the ship, which he always did at the end of a shift. It helped to put his mind at rest and made him feel as if he had finished off the day properly. A quick check of his watch told him that he would comfortably keep to schedule, and so after concluding his inspection, he made his way back up to Deck Three and into one of his favourite rooms aboard the ship - the captain's private lounge. It was a modestly sized room, which made it ideal as a place where he could hold small functions or meetings in surroundings that were not too formal. He hadn't entertained anyone here yet, but he supposed that a coffee with his first officer was a good first use.

The furnishings of the lounge were suitably comfortable, if a little plain, but Hurst planned to add a few personal touches in time. What made the room for him was the panoramic view, courtesy of a huge window which ran for almost the entire width of the room, and floor to ceiling. When not in use, the window was covered by a shell of titanium alloy blinds, which Hurst now ordered the computer to open. He'd not yet looked out of the window whilst the ship was in motion, and was pleased to find that the view was no less spectacular. He asked the computer to dim the lights right down. Amazing. The curve of the window over his head made him feel as if he had been literally thrust amongst distant stars that were fast receding from him as _Genesis_ glided slowly through the Andromeda cosmos.

The electronic sound of the door alert snapped him out of his gaze.

"Come in," he said. His first officer stepped into the room but then stopped, surprised at the darkness.

"Is there a problem with the lights, Captain?" she asked.

"No, not at all. Come here," Hurst said, gesturing for her to come and stand beside him. D'Zira did so, the doors shutting behind her. He could see her looking at him quizzically in the dim light that came from various external sources on the ship.

"This is the first time I've actually been in here and seen the view from the window since the ship left its dock," Hurst said quietly, though his voice still conveyed his excitement. "I turned the lights down just to see the full effect."

"It is a stunning sight," the commander agreed, taking in the view. They stood in silence for a few more minutes until D'Zira spoke again.

"Well Captain, we cannot have a coffee in the dark."

"Computer, lights up to eighty-five percent," Hurst ordered. A split second later, light was restored to the lounge. They both blinked, despite the lighting not being at full glare. Hurst indicated for D'Zira to sit down on one of the armchairs by the coffee table. He went over to the replicator.

"What can I get you?" he asked.

"Isilah mocha, thank you Captain," she replied.

"Not a fan of Vulcan coffee?" he asked, after ordering the drink.

"My mother tried her best, but I much prefer Betazed or Earth blends," she answered. Hurst smiled at her as he came over with their drinks and sat down.

"Lake Cataria is in Isilah, isn't it?" he asked, trying to remember some facts of Betazed geography.

"Yes, it is," D'Zira replied. "Have you visited?"

"No, though I wouldn't mind a trip there," Hurst said. "It's supposed to be an amazing place."

"Isilah on the whole is a very beautiful country," D'Zira said. "A lot of the provinces in the southern part of Betazed's second continent are, including my own, but I think that Isilah is perhaps the most spectacular."

"I'll take your word for it," Hurst said.

"Where did you grow up?" D'Zira asked.

"I was born in Massachusetts, but with my father being an ambassador for most of my childhood, I lived all over the place," Hurst said. "I didn't live on Earth properly until I was fourteen." He sipped his coffee, thoughtfully. "That's probably why I wanted to join Starfleet. Travelling the galaxy was just second nature to me."

"Obviously it was a good career choice," D'Zira said.

"Yes, it's turned out far better than I could ever have hoped," Hurst replied. "Nobody was more surprised than me when they decided to pick me as one of the captains for this mission."

"I've heard that there was some doubt," D'Zira replied, glossing over the sense of false modesty she detected from the captain.

"There was, but to be honest, I don't really care. Without wishing to sound arrogant, my career speaks for itself and I wouldn't have been given the assignment if the powers that be had a real problem," Hurst said. He sat back in his chair and quietly added, "I spent long enough working for the privilege."

"It's been challenging for me. Having not made the initial final cut for the Millennium Mission, I did not expect to be in the position I am now," D'Zira said, purposefully. Hurst tensed slightly. That issue had been buried under the events of their first week or so here, but he knew inside him that he'd be kidding himself if it had somehow been resolved by itself. She spoke first.

"I understand that Commander Wheeler was a personal friend of yours," she said. "I sympathise in that the turn of events would have been upsetting for you, but I had hoped that there would not be too much of a problem."

"There isn't," Hurst replied. She looked him straight in the eye.

"On my home world we pride ourselves on honesty, Captain. The one thing that offends a Betazoid is avoiding openness. I have said that I would not lie to you; I expect the same in return." Hurst opened his mouth to disagree but then stopped. She was right. He took some time to think about how best to respond.

"Rick is someone whom I've known since the Academy. We served together early in our careers. When I got assigned the command of this ship and Rick was confirmed as being eligible for the mission, I had no hesitation in choosing him outright as my executive officer. We spent months planning the ins and outs of this mission. It should have been a high point – I mean, what better way to make history than with one of your best friends? I don't know how Rick came to be implicated in that crime, but it shouldn't have happened." Hurst looked evenly at his companion. "I knew Rick better than almost anybody, but you… I know nothing about you."

"Which is why we are sat here," D'Zira replied. "Captain, I know I cannot replace your friend, nor will I try, but it is unfair to put your negative feelings onto me."

"It's not your fault, I know. I've been trying not to let it be an issue for the sake of the crew."

"But not for the sake of the relationship between you and me."

"That's rather harsh, Commander."

"It is what you implied, Captain." Once again Hurst was stuck for an answer.

"Well, now we know where we stand, let use this time for what it was supposed to be," D'Zira said.

"You're right," Hurst replied, shaking off his awkwardness. He hadn't invited her here for an argument. He had just complained that he didn't know her, for goodness sake.

"I read in your profile that you served on board the USS _Mallory_ before you were chosen to come aboard here. That's quite a prestigious ship," he said.

"It is," she agreed. "As a lieutenant commander, I was in charge of Operations for my four year duration there. I enjoyed serving on the _Mallory_, but as there is the need for only one officer holding the rank of full commander on a ship of that size, as is the case here on the _Genesis Millennia_, I had to look for another ship since unfortunately, Commander Q'Yaguna was not about to surrender his position." She smiled faintly. "My transfer off the _Mallory_ would have been quicker had it not been for the Millennium Mission tying up resources. I had been told to expect a new assignment towards the beginning of February… However, matters took an unexpected turn."

"Captain Waterford was quite sorry to see you go," Hurst said, recalling the statement recorded on D'Zira's profile under the section dedicated to her service on the Mallory.

"I will miss the Mallory too," she replied, graciously. "But, that is the downside of a career in Starfleet."

"Especially when you leave a ship you feel attached to," Hurst agreed. He was about to ask her some further questions about her career to date when an explosion rocked the ship. Both of them leapt to their feet. That explosion was the unmistakable sign of someone firing upon them. A second later, the red alert siren sounded.

"Computer, close blinds," Hurst ordered as they both left the room. The two of them made their way up to the bridge where the lieutenant who was in charge of the conn was giving some orders. Hurst and D'Zira made their way down to the command area. The lieutenant moved respectfully out of the way.

"What's the story?" Hurst asked the lieutenant.

"We picked up a ship that was closing on our position rapidly. No hail from them when they reached us. They simply opened fire," the lieutenant answered. "No response to hails."

"On screen," Hurst ordered. On the view screen, they saw the enemy ship, a large, vicious-looking vessel. Behind them, the rest of the senior staff began piling onto the bridge, the red alert having summoned them there. They quickly replaced the staff covering their posts and were soon ready for action.

"Ensign Tay, try hailing the ship again," Hurst said. Tay obliged. The only response was more firing from the ship in front of them.

"What are their capabilities?" Hurst asked.

"They can match us for speed, but not manoeuvrability. As for their weaponry, they almost equal ours. It's going to be tough to beat them in a straight fight," Beckett said.

"See if you can find a weakness," Hurst said. "Tay, open a channel. I'm going to try some more direct communication."

"Channel open."

"This is Captain Jordan Hurst of the Federation starship _Genesis Millennia_. I request you to cease your fire upon my ship." Silence. Hurst was about to speak again when an alien appeared on the view screen. Heavy features gave him a menacing appearance, just like his ship.

"You have entered our territory without permission. You will either surrender or be destroyed."

"We do not mean any hostility to your race," Hurst said.

"No negotiations!" the alien snapped. "You have thirty seconds to lower your shields." He cut the link.

"Captain, they are trying to disable our shields," Beckett said.

"How?" Hurst asked.

"I don't know, I've not seen something like this before," Beckett replied. "It's a highly concentrated beam of some sort that's basically digging a hole through our shields."

"Try setting the outer shield modulation randomizer to a higher frequency," Hurst said. Beckett pressed a few keys on his console.

"No effect," he said.

"Can you knock out the point of transmission?" Hurst asked.

"Not unless we can disable their shields," Beckett replied. "Damn."

"What is it?" asked Hurst. He got his answer when several beings similar in appearance to the person who had appeared on the view screen became visible on the bridge.


	8. The Nephellan

"Who are you?" Hurst demanded. One of the aliens turned to face him.

"It is of no consequence to you. This is our ship now. You are expected to cooperate with us from now on," he said, and glanced beyond Hurst to look at D'Zira, who was pointing a phaser at him. The alien then looked around to see Dupin, also armed, behind him. He looked back at Hurst.

"Females on a starship? In the Command Centre? And they're defending you? How pathetic," he sneered.

"I assure you there is nothing pathetic about my crew," Hurst replied.

"Whatever you say," the alien replied. He looked at the other members of his crew. "Separate the females and keep them safe. They will be useful to us. H'Rin, see if there is a holding bay on this ship. As for the males…we may need their help in deciphering some of the technology here, so don't harm them for the time being."

"You will get nothing from us," Hurst said, defiantly.

"We shall see," the alien replied, stepping closer to Hurst, only to be hit in the back from Dupin's phaser fire. All hell then broke loose on the bridge as a fight broke out. Hurst dived to the floor to reach for the phaser that was kept under his chair. Sparks flew literally as weapons fire hit consoles. One of the aliens had Ensign Dupin in some kind of arm lock, trying to subdue her. Lieutenant Commander Orea was trying to come to her aid, at the same time firing upon other members of the enemy. Hurst saw that Ensign Tay was unconscious at his post, as were several other members of the bridge crew. D'Zira saw Tay slumped at the Ops console too. If she could get to the station, there was a chance that she could beam the aliens off the ship. She began to make her way there, dodging fire from both sides. She got to the station, carefully moving Tay out of the way so that she could reach the controls. Unfortunately, one of the aliens saw what she was trying to do, and fired on her, causing the commander to crumple down beside her crewmate.

When she next opened her eyes, D'Zira saw a face peering at her. As her vision cleared, she saw that it was Ensign Dupin. She sat up.

"How are you feeling, Commander?" the Ensign asked.

"I am fine, thank you, Ensign," D'Zira replied, ignoring the sting that the phaser fire had left on her shoulder. She got to her feet, waving away Dupin's offer of assistance. D'Zira immediately recognised their surroundings as being the first cargo bay of the _Genesis Millennia_. All the members of crew with her were female.

"Are there any injuries?" D'Zira asked.

"None serious," Dupin replied.

"Good," D'Zira said. She surveyed the assembled women. On the whole, they seemed to be bearing up well under the circumstances.

"I take it that our male colleagues are with our sudden guests," D'Zira said.

"Yes. I don't know where though. Once they had defeated us, those brutes bundled you, me and the other girls on the bridge down here," Dupin replied. She flicked a strand of dark hair over her shoulder and looked at her superior officer, who appeared to be deep in thought. After a moment, she appeared to snap out of it.

"Most are on the enemy ship. The captain and our other shipmates are still on the bridge," D'Zira told Dupin.

"Are they okay?" Dupin asked, trying not to sound too alarmed at the thought that Captain Hurst might be hurt.

"For the moment, yes," D'Zira replied.

"What are we going to do?" Dupin asked. "We can't just sit here and wait for the thugs to come back."

"Indeed, we cannot," D'Zira said, sensing that the ensign, like herself, was not keen to find out in what way they would be useful to the aliens. At that moment, the cargo bay doors slid open and in strode the leader of the beings that had infiltrated the ship, closely followed by two companions.

"Well, looks like an interesting collection of females here," he said. He raised his voice further.

"You may be interested to know that we have taken all of your male comrades off the ship. They will be dealt with in a manner that suits their crime. As for you, there's no need to be frightened. So long as you do as you are told, you will come to no harm," he said, though he did not convince any of his prisoners.

"May I ask what crime our colleagues are supposed to have committed?" D'Zira asked.

"You were in the command centre. You already know," the alien replied.

"If you had refrained from firing upon us, then we would have passed out of your space without incident," D'Zira said.

"We cannot take that risk. Besides, I am curious about this ship. It does not look like any other I have seen, though I believe that we are evenly matched," he said.

"Who are you?" D'Zira asked.

"We are the Nephellan. My own name is H'Rok," the alien replied. He turned away from D'Zira and looked towards the rest of his captives.

"When your male companions have finished co-operating with us, we will secure them upon our ship and they will be used for labour purposes. You, on the other hand, will not be harmed. Females are prized in our society, even those that come from elsewhere in the galaxy. Some of you will be used for trading purposes, and some of you…" he broke off and looked at Dupin and one or two others. "Some of you will enjoy my company and that of my senior officers."

"I can't wait," Dupin said, sarcastically. H'Rok smiled at her, and took her chin in his hand. Dupin tried to back out of his grip, but it was too strong.

"You are of a forceful disposition," H'Rok said. He looked keenly into her eyes and nodded. "Yes, you will be my first choice."

"I am honoured," Dupin answered, not losing the sarcasm. H'Rok let her go. He addressed the whole cargo bay again.

"You will be taken to our home planet and be taught our customs and how you are to serve us. You will forget the foolish notions you have been brought up to believe, that you have the right to be equal to your males. A female should be submissive," he stated. Dupin scowled. What was that phrase that was used hundreds of years ago? Something about a woman's place. Whatever it was, it would probably sound as ridiculous as the proposition these Nephellan were trying to put to them. And to think that that ugly H'Rok expected her to become his willing consort. She'd rather be stuck in a lift with Tay Barlis. Or be forced to work with that silly Q. Dupin snapped out of her thoughts. H'Rok had moved away to take a closer look at the other assembled female members of the crew, so she turned to D'Zira.

"Where's Quella?" she asked.

The subject of Ensign Dupin's question was currently holed up in a Jefferies tube, clutching a phaser. She had just been getting comfortable chatting to Lieutenant Beckett and Ensign Tay in the Hub before there was an explosion and the whole ship seemed to shake. Moments later, the red alert siren had started blaring, and her companions leapt to their feet along with other members of the crew that were present, and had bolted for the exit.

"What am I supposed to do?" she had called to them, bewildered.

"Get yourself somewhere safe and stay out of the way!" Beckett had yelled back. She hadn't time to retort, and was left in the empty room staring at the door where they had all piled out. A second explosion made her scramble to her feet and decide to take up Beckett's advice. She then exited the Hub and hurried along the corridors, trying to keep her balance from another volley of firepower rocking the ship, instinctively heading for a place she felt was safe. Sickbay. She almost skidded through the doors and stopped dead in her tracks, looking for Dr Davies. He came out of his office.

"Quella?"

"I didn't know where else to go. Lieutenant Beckett said I should go somewhere safe and stay out of the way," she gasped, almost out of breath.

"I think he probably meant your quarters, but never mind," the doctor replied.

"Do you know what's going on?" Quella asked him.

"I assume we're under attack," the doctor replied, deadpan. Quella scowled in return. Dr Davies broke into a smile, which soon disappeared as an alarm, different from the muffled red alert one, sounded around sickbay.

"We've been boarded," the doctor said. "That's the warning alarm." He hustled Quella to the far side of the room.

"Hey!" she protested. The doctor didn't reply, instead he opened a hatch and thrust a phaser into Quella's hand.

"Get in the Jefferies tube," he said.

"And do what?" Quella asked.

"You'll think of something. You have a super high IQ, as you like to keep reminding us," the doctor replied.

"That's not helpful!" Quella snapped back.

"Get in before someone gets here!" Dr Davies said. Quella finally obliged, awkwardly turning around to find that the doctor had shut the hatch. She pressed her ear against the hatch, and heard a gruff voice that wasn't the doctor's. She couldn't make out what was being said. There was the sound of footsteps approaching the hatch, followed by the doctor's voice. The footsteps stopped. Quella decided to take the time the doctor was buying her, and move along the tube. She had no idea of where she was going. She approached an intersection. She could either go up or down.

"Always best to stay above everything," she said to herself, climbing the ladder. If only that annoying red alert siren would stop. In the Jefferies tube, it echoed around, making her ears ring even more. She wondered what was happening to the rest of the crew. There were odd bangs and shouts, but to her untrained ears, they could have been anything. She'd never been in one of these before, although Lieutenant Truman had promised that her engineering duties would mean she'd soon make up for it. Finally, she reached the top of the ladder after passing several decks, and crawled into another horizontal tube. She began moving along, but then stopped, feeling completely disorientated. What was she supposed to do, keep crawling along forever?

"I'm a Q. I don't crawl!" she muttered. She should try and find out where she was. But to open a hatch could lead to the enemy finding her. She looked along the Jefferies tube, and noticed that light seemed to be shining through the floor, further along. Quella went to investigate, and found that the source of light came from the room below. Sections of the grill of the tube floor also acted as vents in some areas. Cautiously, Quella peered through the vent. Below her was something that looked like a meeting room. Recalling the short tour she had been given when she first arrived, she realised that she was looking at the main briefing room, where the senior crew would gather to plan strategies and the like. Its emptiness in this time of crisis gave Quella an ominous feeling. She sat back, and for the first time thought seriously about the situation. There must be something that she could do. As the doctor reminded her before he unceremoniously shoved her into the Jeffries tube, she wasn't shy about telling people how bright she was. It was time to prove it. Easier said than done though.

"If I had my powers, it would be so simple!" she said out loud. A click of the fingers, an effortless thought and order would have been restored on board _Genesis_. Being omnipotent and being able to do absolutely anything, coupled with an IQ in the thousands usually meant little thought needed to be put into things. You could always undo the consequences if you wished, though for a Q it was generally more fun to see how events panned out. Now unable to pick the easy solution, Quella had to really think, and it was already giving her a headache. She looked back towards the vent. She was above the briefing room. That was near the bridge. So if she kept going along this tube, she should hopefully be placed above the bridge itself. There should be someone occupying it, though whether that would only be the enemy or not she wouldn't know until she was there. At that moment, the red alert siren was turned off. That did not mean that the problem had been resolved however. In fact, the silence that seemed to be present did not indicate a good sign. Conscious of her movements now, Quella crept forwards, at times almost holding her breath. At last she reached the end of the tube she was in. Across lay a further tube, whilst before that there was a ladder. Quella peered downwards. It seemed to run nearly all the way down to the bottom of the ship. She looked above her, and could see a hatch a few feet away. She climbed upwards and managed to open it. Going through the hatch, she found herself in a surprisingly spacious area, big enough for her to be able to kneel comfortably. She must be right at the top of the ship. Ahead of her was another horizontal tube. After allowing herself to have a stretch to try and ease her cramped muscles, Quella proceeded forward. To her delight, she found a vent. Clutching her phaser tightly, she peered through the grill and looked down onto the bridge.

The situation seemed impossible. Captain Hurst had watched helplessly as the Nephellan defeated his crew and proceeded to remove the female members from the bridge. The remaining members, including himself, Lieutenant Beckett, Ensign Tay and Lieutenant Commander Orea, were forced to go and sit in the space between the helm and the view screen. He watched as the leader of the invaders marched out of the bridge, presumably to oversee things elsewhere. Several Nephellan were left to guard them, weapons pointed at them all of the time. Hurst hoped that the aliens were treating his female members of staff well, though he did not doubt their ability to stand up for themselves. Eventually, the leader came back onto the bridge.

"A fine selection of females," he commented as he approached the captain.

"What have you done with them?" Hurst asked.

"They are in a holding area. Do not bother yourself about them. They will be well treated. On the other hand…" He grabbed Hurst by the front of his jacket and hauled him up so that they were face to face. "You will not be so fortunate," he growled.

"Why?" Hurst asked.

"Because once you have shown me and my companions the secrets of this ship, you will cease to be useful," H'Rok replied.

"Your own ship shows it to be almost equal to ours, so what is there to know?" Hurst asked.

"Similar in battle, yes, but there are many other things I am curious about," H'Rok said. He dragged Hurst over to where the command chairs were and almost threw him into D'Zira's usual seat. Orea and Beckett moved to help their captain, but the click of the weapons pointed at them made them think otherwise.

"Firstly, what is this 'Federation' you mentioned when we first met?" H'Rok asked. "I know of no 'Federation'."

"The Federation is an alliance of planets," Hurst said. H'Rok scowled.

"Like the League of Trinilon?" he asked.

"I've never heard of that," Hurst replied. H'Rok grabbed his shirt again.

"Everyone knows about Trinilon!" he spat.

"We're not from around here," Hurst said. H'Rok threw him back into the chair, and began pacing up and down.

"This Federation of yours must intend to overthrow the League. Why else would you be here?" he said.

"I told you, we're travellers. That is all. The Federation has no interest in your League because the Federation doesn't know of its existence," Hurst said.

"Lies!" H'Rok roared. He moved to attack Hurst once again. Suddenly, a burst of phaser fire hit H'Rok directly in the head, and he fell to the floor. Everyone on the bridge, Nephellan and Starfleet alike were surprised. In the stunned silence that followed, two more shots were fired, hitting two of the Nephellan crew. Orea was the first to react, charging at one of their captors. The rest of the Genesis crew followed, and once again the bridge was the scene of conflict. Hurst looked up to the ceiling vent, to see who had fired the phaser, but could see no one. Puzzled, but not letting that prevent him from retaking control of his ship, Hurst joined his crew in subduing the remaining Nephellan.

Meanwhile, back in Cargo Bay One, D'Zira had deduced that Quella was still on board the ship, somewhere near the bridge. She was safe, for the time being at least. That knowledge allowed them to concentrate on other matters. Before he had left, H'Rok had set up a force field in order to further confine his captives.

"If we were able to somehow route Ops down from the bridge to the control pad over there, we might be able to beam them out," said Dupin. "If only we could get out of this force field."

"Even so, it will be very difficult to override the bridge lockdown command," D'Zira replied.

"Can't you do that with your voice authorization?" Dupin asked.

"I must be on the bridge itself to unlock the bridge computer system," D'Zira said. "That particular command requires a retinal scan along with the voice authorization code. It's a standard safeguard."

"Well, if we can get rid of the force field, it shouldn't be hard to get rid of our guard," Dupin said, looking at the solitary figure, a contrast to the forty or so women assembled in the cargo bay. "Our friend H'Rok obviously assumes that we are not much of a challenge."

"That is true," D'Zira agreed. She looked at the device that was generating the force field. It was outside the field, beyond their reach. H'Rok had penned them in the centre of the cargo bay, so they were away from any shelves or hatches or any other means by which they may try to escape. Their phasers had been taken from them, although they wouldn't have been much use inside a force field. Dupin wished that the commander possessed telekinetic powers rather than telepathic ones. For the moment, both women knew that they were stuck there in the cargo bay.

"We're just going to have to wait for them to make a mistake, I suppose," Dupin said, reluctantly.

"Or hope that the captain and our other colleagues on the bridge are more successful," D'Zira added.

"Wonder where Quella's got to?" Dupin pondered. "If she's near the bridge, she may have been captured too, which I wouldn't be surprised at, really." She couldn't resist the remark. D'Zira shook her head.

"She's nearby." Dupin looked at her with surprise.

"Where?" A moment later, there was a noise from behind them. They turned to see a rather dishevelled Quella emerging from a Jefferies tube hatch.

"Qu…" Dupin began, but D'Zira hushed her. The Nephellan guard hadn't noticed the interloper. Quella stole around the edge of the force field, hiding behind the crew as best she could. She took aim with her phaser. The Nephellan suddenly noticed her, and raised his weapon. Quella was quicker though, and took him out in one shot. She turned and grinned at the other women. D'Zira and Dupin came to the fore.

"Quella, you are going to have to disable this force field," D'Zira told her, before the semi-Q could say anything.

"How?" Quella asked.

"That device on the floor," D'Zira said. She looked over her shoulder. "Lieutenant Tennison?" The named lieutenant appeared obediently at her side.

"I understand you know about force field generators?" D'Zira asked.

"Yes, Commander," Lieutenant Tennison replied. She knelt down in front of it. Quella knelt opposite, on the other side of the field. Patiently, Tennison directed Quella on how to disable the device. After a few minutes there was a click and the field disappeared. The assembled women all breathed a collective sigh of relief. No sooner had the breath left their bodies, the cargo bay entrance opened, and two Nephellan appeared. Seeing that their captives were free, one opened fire, striking Quella in the back. The young semi-Q gave a yelp and slipped into unconsciousness. Quick as lightening, Dupin reached for the phaser Quella had been carrying, and fired at the alien. She missed, but fortunately the Nephellan did likewise when firing at her. Feeling her frustration finally boiling over, Dupin rushed at the two aliens.

"Come on!" she called to the others. Some of them joined her. Unused to seeing females acting in such an aggressive manner, the two Nephellan backed out of the cargo bay. Dupin quickly closed and locked the doors. Lieutenant Tennison brought the force field generator over, and reactivated it, so it covered the entrance.

"That should keep them out," she said. Dupin looked for the commander, expecting some sort of mild telling off, but instead she saw that D'Zira had already gone over to the control panel, after seeing that Quella was not too badly injured. Dupin went over to join her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I am trying to see if I can reach the Ops commands," the Vulcan-Betazoid replied.

"I thought you said that wasn't possible?"

"Perhaps not, but nonetheless, we must try," D'Zira said. She concentrated on the small control panel. Dupin watched as she began pressing the pads, trying to find a way into a highly complex security system. The ensign knew that it would take time. She hoped that it wasn't too late to help the captain.

The last of the Nephellan on the bridge had finally been subdued. Hurst turned his attention back to his crew.

"Right, let's get rid of our unwelcome guests, and set about reuniting the crew," he said. Tay looked at his Operations console, unable to work it because the bridge computer was still locked down, but the display still gave readings.

"Captain, someone's trying to access Ops," the Bajoran said.

"How?" Hurst asked.

"I can't tell, but it looks as if they are trying to bypass the bridge lockdown command," Tay replied. Hurst looked to Beckett, who was busy redistributing their stolen combadges, which the Nephellan had discarded in a corner of the bridge.

"There's no way of being able to determine the nature of the threat unless you unlock the bridge computers yourself," the security chief said, passing the captain a combadge.

"That's what I thought," Hurst replied, grimly. "Trouble is, if I remove the lockdown, I could be providing them access to what they want." He quickly weighed the matter up in his mind and then went over to a small panel by the Security station.

"Computer, lift bridge computer lockdown. Authorization code Hurst Alpha Zero Two Sigma."

"Please provide retina scan," the computer prompted. Hurst stood in front of the scanning panel, and waited for the scan to be complete.

"Bridge computer systems are unlocked," the computer said. Tay immediately got to work tracing the source of the would-be hacker.

"The source is coming from the control panel in Cargo Bay One," he told the captain. Hurst relaxed.

"D'Zira," he said. "It must be." He looked to Tay and Beckett. "I'm going to guess that she's trying to access Ops to try and beam our guests out of here, and return our crew."

"Makes sense," Beckett said. "The transporter room systems tie into there." Hurst wished that he could communicate with his first officer, to check on the crew that were with her, but that wasn't possible at the moment.

"Tay, can you pick up our crew that are on the Nephellan ship?" Hurst asked. "Orea, take up the helm. As soon as our crew is back on board, I want to be out of here. They didn't damage our engines in battle, and I don't intend to give them the chance to now."

"Aye, Captain," the lieutenant commander replied, seating himself in the already familiar seat.

"Yes," the Ensign replied. He pressed a few pads on the console. "Ready to begin analogous transportation on your order."

"Do it," Hurst said. Tay set the command, and they watched as H'Rok and his comrades disappeared off the bridge. Tay checked the information on his console.

"All Nephellan are off the ship, all crew back on board," he said.

"Orea."

"Going straight to warp, Sir," Orea confirmed. Hurst breathed a sigh of relief. Now it was time to go and check his crew.

"Ewan, I want you go back over the sensor logs and study how the Nephellan disabled our shields," Hurst said. "I have a feeling we've not heard the last of them."

"Yes, Sir," Beckett replied. Hurst left the bridge.

Later, when the injuries had been healed, stories exchanged and repairs carried out, Hurst allowed the crew to recover. Quella sat alone in the Hub, not really wanting to go back to her quarters, despite the late hour. She had woken up in sickbay, and had thought at first that she had dreamt the events of the past few hours until Dr Davies assured her that it had been real. He had made quite a fuss of her, as had the captain. Hurst had been surprised to find out that it had been Quella firing from the vent, and that she had subsequently used the information that she had heard from H'Rok to make her way down to the cargo bay and help the others. Quella herself had been surprisingly modest about it all. She sipped her drink. On one hand she was pleased that she had been praised for once rather than criticised; on the other hand the part of her that was still Q taunted her. She had helped save the pathetic little humans.

'_Wouldn't it have been more fun to let them work it out for themselves? You are a shadow of your former self, and you still managed to save them. They are weak. You are weak_,' the Q part of her mind said.

"I am not," Quella argued back. The sound of someone coming into the Hub made her force the argument away.

"Quella?" It was Aimee Dupin. She came over. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" The question was asked without her usual aggressive manner towards the Q.

"Shouldn't you?" Quella answered, unsure of what Dupin wanted. Dupin took a seat the other side of the table.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

"Neither can I," Quella said. There was a pause.

"I usually go for a walk around the ship when I can't sleep," Dupin said. She looked at Quella. "I suppose that you still find sleep strange?"

"No, not really," Quella replied. There was another silence.

"You did well today," Dupin said. "If you hadn't managed to stay hidden, we'd probably be waiting on those ugly things right now."

"Not necessarily. You humans are very resourceful," Quella said.

"But we have our limits," Dupin replied.

"So do I, now," Quella said, wistfully. Dupin sensed that Quella didn't really want to talk - well, not to her at any rate. She got up again.

"Maybe you should at least go back to your quarters. Lieutenant Truman won't appreciate you being tired or late," she said.

"I will in a bit," Quella replied, shortly. Dupin nodded.

"Well, goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight," Quella replied. She didn't watch Dupin leave the room. Instead, she turned her attention to the inky blackness of space, watching the little points of light twinkle. She sighed. Maybe she should go back to her quarters. After all, she didn't want to undo all the apparent good work she did with Lieutenant Truman earlier. Quella stood up, giving the stars a last longing look. Then she turned and exited the hall, leaving only the distant hum of the ship's engines to fill it.


	9. Attraction

She looked at her reflection in the glass and smoothed a couple of dark hairs into place. Then she tugged on the jacket of her uniform. Perfect, just about. The sound of the shuttle bay door opening made her step back from the glass partition.

"Ready to go, Miss Dupin?"

"Yes, Captain." Aimee returned Hurst's smile. She let him enter the shuttle first and then followed, seating herself in the pilot's chair.

"It's about time we had a reason to try out one of the shuttles," Hurst said.

"Yes, it is," Dupin agreed, not adding that she was grateful the captain had seen fit for her to be the first person to actually fly a _Genesis_ shuttle. Not Lieutenant Commander Orea, not Commander D'Zira, not Lieutenant Beckett or even Ensign Tay, but her. She could hardly believe her luck. A few hours by herself, with the captain. Well, not entirely by herself when they docked with the space station, but there would be no one else from _Genesis_ with them. She was going to make sure that she'd enjoy every second. She closed the hatch on the shuttle and powered up.

"Initiating launch sequence," she said. She loved flying shuttles, but that was almost incidental today. She checked all the displays, noting that everything was functioning correctly. Before them, the shuttle bay hatch yawned open, revealing the blackness of space. Dupin took a breath as she always did before commencing something that needed concentration and held in a smile as she caught the scent of the captain's aftershave. She needed to think about getting the shuttle safely out of the bay. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself. Using the controls, she got the shuttle to hover and then gently eased it forwards through the bay doors and into space.

"Shuttle has left the bay. Clearing ship now," Dupin said.

"_Acknowledged, Ensign. May you and the captain enjoy your time on board the station_," D'Zira's voice came back to them on the comlink.

"Thank you, Commander. We'll be in touch," Hurst said. Dupin steered the shuttle around the _Genesis Millennia_.

"It doesn't feel as if it has been two months since we last saw the outside of the ship," Dupin said, noticing that Hurst was looking down intently at _Genesis_.

"No, it doesn't," he replied. "That's why I'm quite happy to be going to the space station. Even a captain needs to escape once in a while."

"Maybe we should search for a recreational planet," Dupin said. _Genesis_ was now behind them and so Hurst sat back in his seat.

"Can't say I wouldn't mind that," he replied. He looked at Dupin. "You're not finding the mission too hard-going, are you?"

"No, not at all," Dupin replied. "I miss home from time to time of course, but I'm enjoying myself."

"That's good to hear," Hurst said.

"Is the mission so far anything like you expected it to be?" Aimee asked. Hurst pondered the question.

"Yes and no. After all, all galaxies are made up of the same stuff, so a lot of what we have seen, we have at home. But you can't really have any expectations for missions into the unknown other than to hope for a safe journey," he said. They travelled in silence for a short while.

"It was a shame about what happened to Commander Wheeler," Dupin said, deciding to take a risk.

"These things happen," Hurst replied.

"I hope it's all sorted out by the time we get back," Dupin said.

"I imagine it will be," Hurst said, not willing to be drawn on the subject.

"Anyway, the crew all seem to be getting along well," Dupin said.

"On the whole, yes. There's one or two minor problems but then there always are on starships," Hurst said. Dupin couldn't help wondering if he was including Commander D'Zira in his reply. From the science station, she had a good view of both of them and although they got on with matters professionally, she could see that there was no great friendship being struck up between the two. This made her quite happy, since she had feared that maybe the captain might be interested in D'Zira; now she was sure there was no chance of that, she could work to try and claim him for herself. Or at the very least make sure that no one could say a bad word against her.

"We're approaching the space station," she said. "Asking for permission to dock." She sent out the automated greeting. A few seconds later a face appeared on the little view screen.

"_Permission granted. Please dock your craft at port number five_."

"Acknowledged." Dupin laid in the course that would take them to port number five. Hurst looked out at the other vessels docked at the station. _Genesis_ had been too large to dock at the station, and the owners of the property, a race calling themselves the Jandrhys, did not allow people to use any form of transporter or teleporter. Hence the trip over in the shuttle. There were two reasons for making the trip; firstly the Jandrhys had extended an invitation to Hurst and secondly, there were a few supplies and odds and ends that needed to be gathered. Hurst had decided that since it was a straightforward visitation, he may as well take one of the ensigns with him for the experience.

"Are you sure you want Aimee to accompany you?" D'Zira had asked.

"Looking at her record, I think she is the best person to fly one of our shuttles on its maiden journey," he had replied. "Why do you think otherwise?"

"No reason," D'Zira had replied almost dismissively before adding, "I thought that perhaps Barlis would benefit more from the encounter."

"Not at this point. He's not quite comfortable enough on the ship, never mind a first contact situation," he said.

"I think a short exercise would help him," D'Zira answered.

"Then I'll send him on the next suitable away mission," he had replied. The conversation had ended then. Hurst watched as Dupin neatly steered the shuttle around to the port entrance. After a few seconds, there was a clunk followed by an automated message that told them that the shuttle was docked safely and that they were free to leave.

"Very good, Ensign," Hurst smiled at Dupin, feeling vindicated in his decision. She beamed back, pleased that he had praised her and the fact that he was smiling at her. She thought that he had a lovely smile. She followed him out of the shuttlecraft and sealed the hatch behind them with the appropriate command. They walked together through the corridor that connected their shuttle with the space station, Dupin being careful to make sure that Hurst was just that little bit ahead. At the end of the corridor, they met their hosts. A party of three Jandrhys; two female and one male. The first thing that struck Dupin was that they had four arms. Then she noticed the two tall, attractive females, each with deep red hair and a pair of cute little curled antennae sprouting out of the tops of their heads. Dupin fumed a little. One of the females stepped forward. Both Starfleet officers recognised her as the space station manager, the person whom they had spoken to via the view screen.

"Welcome to the deep space port of the Jandrhys," she said, smiling sweetly at them.

"Thank you for inviting us aboard, Muir Losk," Hurst replied, pleasantly.

"Please, let me introduce my Muir'ju – my second-in-command – Illiba Kask. This is my personal assistant, Gerume." There were the usual exchanges of polite nods and smiles. Hurst indicated Dupin.

"This Ensign Aimee Dupin, one of my senior members of staff," he said. The two females beamed at Dupin, who managed a surprised but courteous smile back.

"Well, Captain Hurst, I would like to show you a little of the station since it is your first time here," Muir Losk said.

"I would like that," he said. He held out a padd to her. "I also have some items to acquire. If someone could show Ensign Dupin where the trading area is…"

"Gerume shall be happy to collect the supplies you need," Losk interrupted, indicating her assistant, who followed at a respectful distance behind the party.

"Thank you, but I would rather that Ensign Dupin…"

"Gerume will do an exemplary job, Captain. It is our custom that males such as Gerume look after tasks such as purchasing supplies. I will not allow Ensign Dupin to set foot on the trading deck. Of course if you wish to go in her place, Captain, that is a different matter."

"It is not for me to defy another's customs," Hurst replied, diplomatically. He watched as Losk gave the padd to Gerume.

"Captain Hurst is my personal guest. You will fulfil the assignment exceptionally well," she said to him. He bowed slightly in respect to her.

"Certainly, Muir," he replied and subsequently disappeared to wherever the trading deck was. Muir Losk turned to her guests.

"I apologise if I came across as rude, Captain. I should explain now that the Jandrhys are a highly matriarchal society. Obviously we realise that other races do not follow the same structure, but we do tend to follow here what we observe at home," she said.

"As you are entitled to," Hurst replied. Losk seemed to like his reply, for she smiled broadly at him, the antennae on her head uncurling and then curling again.

"It is very refreshing to meet a male who is not insulted by, or afraid of, a female dominated environment," she said.

"Of course I wouldn't be," Hurst told her.

"Then you and I shall have a fascinating conversation over a meal," Losk replied. She turned to her remaining companion.

"Illiba, would you please see that a meal is prepared for the guest suite in one hour?" she asked.

"Yes, certainly," the Muir-ju replied. She departed down one of the side corridors. Dupin watched, relieved that one of the Jandrhys had left the scene. She cursed her luck, but then decided that things could be worse - she could be collecting supplies right now instead of Gerume. At least she was able to remain with the captain and be on hand to help him if these self-confessed matriarchs decided to make some sort of move on him. She took a glance at some of the other visitors to the station. As with space stations she had been to in her own galaxy, there were aliens of all shapes and sizes – elegant creatures whose skin seemed almost luminescent, short fat little things who scuttled past hurriedly and beings who appeared almost anthropomorphic all going about their business.

"And what do you do on board your ship?" Dupin realised that the question was directed at her.

"I'm a science officer," she replied.

"How wonderful," Muir Losk said. "Do you specialise in anything or is it just general science?"

"I have a hand in all areas but my specialities lay in astrobiology and some aspects of astrophysics."

"Not a chemist, then?"

"It's not on a par with my physics and biology, no. I'd have probably graduated top of my science class at the Academy if chemistry hadn't let me down," Dupin said.

"It doesn't appear to have held you back," Losk said.

"Not at all," Dupin said. The disappointment had been more of a personal one than a career aspect. She couldn't actually be sure if she would have graduated top of the science class if her chemistry had been better, but she had been adamant in her mind that it had been the cause. As it was, she had still graduated in the top five.

"Are there many female captains in your society?"

"Oh, plenty. Women are in charge of all sorts of important things," Dupin said.

"More than the men?"

"I think it's about the same. We're equal."

"Oh, males and females are never equal, Ensign Dupin, even in societies like yours," Muir Losk said.

"But…" Dupin started. The Muir interrupted her.

"Look at yourself and then look at Captain Hurst," she said, using one pair of her hands to hold Hurst by the shoulders whilst a third hand pointed towards Dupin. "I can tell just by looking at him that the males of your planet evolved to be physically stronger than the females. More dominant. In turn, your females probably posses a greater capacity for intelligence."

"The two balance each other out," Dupin said.

"That may be the case, but there will always be things that one sex can generally do better than the other. Evolution has seen to that. You obviously work out, Captain." The last comment was made as Losk slipped her hands down onto Hurst's arms.

"No more than anyone else spending a long period of time on a starship," Hurst replied, noting that the female Jandrhys was probably as strong, if not more than he was, despite the slender appearance of her arms. The Muir smiled at him and let him go. Dupin bit her lip. The captain hadn't looked one bit uncomfortable in Losk's grip. Her mood was made worse later during the meal. If she had not let her personal feelings for the captain get in the way, she would have seen that both Muir Losk and Muir-ju Kask actually paid more attention to her than Hurst. As they were from a society of dominant females, they tended to regard Dupin as the more important, even though Hurst was the senior officer. They were polite to Hurst, but were also flirtatious with him.

"You may call me Amallia," Muir Losk said to him after the meal was underway.

"In that case, call me Jordan," Hurst replied. Losk laughed.

"You certainly like equality in your society," she said.

"Do you regard that as such a bad thing?" Hurst asked.

"I would never consider a Jandrhys male to be on a par with me, because they simply are not. You have seen Gerume," she replied. "On the other hand, males from other species can be interesting." She looked purposefully at Hurst and then smiled at Dupin.

"You are lucky to have him for a captain."

"All of us are," Dupin replied, hoping that she wasn't blushing as furiously as she felt she was.

"It's a pity more of our males weren't like him," Kask said.

"I bet you don't like weak men, do you?" Losk asked.

"I don't know any girl who does," Dupin replied, gamely. The two Jandrhys nodded in agreement.

"That's why we like to play with males from other species. Although we do draw the line at those ugly Nephellan," Losk said. Dupin sat up in her seat, as did Hurst.

"You deal with the Nephellan?" Hurst asked.

"From time to time. Jandrhys territory overlaps in places with that of the League and since we're affiliated with that, we're obliged to welcome them on our stations," Muir Losk said.

"Is the league you refer to the League of Trinilon?"

"Yes. We're not members. We only ally ourselves with them because it keeps the peace," Losk replied.

"I'd like to know more about it, and the Nephellan for that matter," Hurst said.

"You've encountered them, I take it?"

"They attacked and boarded our ship a few weeks back," Hurst told her.

"One of them wanted me for a mate," Dupin said, her disgust still clear. The Jandrhys looked at her sympathetically.

"They are brutes," Kask said. "They'd like nothing more than to take one of us for their Dashuko. As if a Jandrhys would choose to mate with a Nephellan!" The Muir-ju looked suitably offended at the idea.

"Dashuko?" Dupin asked.

"They are polygamous, usually taking four or five mates. A Dashuko is the term given to their collective spouses," Kask explained.

"All they do is shout and bluster their way around this part of the galaxy. It's all rather pathetic," Losk said.

"How many members does the League have?" Hurst asked.

"Eighty seven at the moment," Losk answered. "They're very much the growing power in the area, so I expect more planets will take up membership as they foray further across the sector."

"Are any of the member races friendly at all?"

"Some are not too bad. We have the strongest ties with the Tesh, Qixin and Rundra people. The ones we try and avoid if possible are the Cadani and Hora. And the Nephellan of course," Losk said.

"I'd like some sort of astrometric chart or map of the League if possible," said Hurst. The Muir smiled at him again.

"Normally you'd have to trade for one, but since you've been such lovely company, I'll see what I can arrange for you," she said sweetly.

"That's very kind of you," Hurst replied. Losk placed her cutlery on her plate whilst simultaneously dabbing at her mouth.

"We can sort that out now," she said. "Illiba, would you escort Aimee to the Promenade?"

"I'd love to," Kask replied. Losk took Hurst off to another part of the station whilst Dupin followed Kask.

"What's on the Promenade?" Dupin asked

"Shops, mostly," Kask said.

"Oh," Dupin said. "But I have no money."

"You don't need to," Kask smiled. "I'm taking you to choose your gifts."

"Gifts?"

"For you. We like to give our guests presents. It's a Jandrhys custom."

"Just for the ladies?"

"You're catching on," Kask said. They reached the Promenade, which was a busy place. Dupin was told that she was allowed to pick three items. She picked out some kind of chocolates and a pretty set of jewellery that she felt was unique, and then was stumped for what else she would like. Kask led her to what appeared to be a perfume shop.

"I don't really wear perfume," Dupin said, though she sniffed the air appreciatively.

"I thought that you might be interested in a particular product," Kask said.

"What would that be?" Dupin asked. Kask presented her with a small, elegant glass bottle which was decorated with silver and little gems.

"You seem to like your captain," Kask said.

"Not in that way," Dupin replied quickly. Kask smiled at her.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she said. "This fragrance is from the Verin system. Despite its delicate aroma, it is a powerful aphrodisiac. One spray of this will have even men who profess to find you the ugliest woman alive desperately attracted to you."

"I'd rather someone was attracted to me for me," Dupin said.

"But he will. Because you will be his entire universe," Kask said. Dupin stared at the bottle.

"Does it wear off?"

"Eventually, yes, as all perfumes do. How fast depends on the concentration."

"You can control the effects?"

"To an extent. You use this here," Kask indicated a little lever on the lid of the bottle. "At its mildest you can make a man simply enjoy your company, at its most powerful…it's up to you."

"I don't know…" Dupin said, though she was hesitant.

"It doesn't have to be for personal sexual purposes. Imagine if you and your friends were about to be attacked – maybe killed. A little gentle spray of this and your enemy won't be your enemy," Kask said. Dupin looked back at the bottle. It wouldn't be right. But then, a little light use wouldn't be too bad. She didn't have to crank it up to full power. Just enough to get him to notice her and then hopefully nature could take its course… No. It wasn't right. But then she thought of Muir Losk. And the other women on board Genesis. And who knows who else they might meet in the future?

"I'll take a bottle," she said.

* * *

A little while later, Hurst and Dupin said farewell to their hosts. Muir Losk had said that she would enter _Genesis_ into their computer system as a _Yasimi_ – a welcome guest. The title would assure them of a welcome at any Jandrhys station, or even their home world. In the shuttle, Dupin entered the course back to the ship, which they could just see in its orbit around the station.

"They certainly seemed to like you, Aimee," Hurst said.

"Not particularly," Dupin shrugged.

"I'm surprised you think that," Hurst said. "I should have made an excuse and sent Commander D'Zira over with you instead."

"I think Muir Losk would have been disappointed, Sir." The remark came out a little blunter than Dupin intended. Hurst gave her a look.

"What do you mean, Ensign?"

"I meant that the Jandrhys seem to pride themselves on their hospitality," Dupin replied neutrally, hoping that the recovery was good enough. It was.

"Yes, they are very generous," Hurst said. "We got all the supplies that we asked for, and more if you count your gifts and the information Muir Losk provided on the League of Trinilon. And we're assured of assistance if we come across them again."

"A very successful trip," Dupin agreed. She sent a communication to _Genesis_ to tell them to open the shuttle bay doors. The ship loomed above them as Dupin manoeuvred the shuttle around to the bay. Her time alone with the captain was almost over and it would be back to the science station and analysing and compiling reports. But when the time was right, she'd have the captain to herself again, and it wouldn't be on a supply mission. The shuttle bay doors yawned open and Dupin took the shuttle in, making a perfect landing. She suddenly got the idea that it might be an idea to test the fragrance out on someone else first, to see if it really did affect men in the way Muir-ju Kask claimed. She smiled nicely at the captain as he passed comment on her piloting skills again. After instructing a couple of crewmen on unloading and storing the supplies they had brought back with them, they both left the shuttle bay. Hurst told Dupin to go and put her gifts in her quarters before rejoining the bridge, which she did so.

She was still plotting by the time she took her place at the science station. The ship had just broken from its orbit around the Jandrhys station and was once again on its way. Hurst was having a chat to Commander D'Zira about the mission went. Dupin wasn't paying attention; instead she looked at each of the men on the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Orea had an advanced sense of smell, so there could be a chance that even a weak concentration of the scent would have a stronger than intended effect – and with those sabre teeth of his, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to be anywhere near him with the perfume. Lieutenant Naron – perhaps. Tay Barlis…not a chance. She looked to the engineering station which was currently occupied by Ensign Mucha. Lieutenant Truman had struck her as being too geeky for her tastes.

"Ewan, I've got a lot of data from Muir Losk which I'd like you to review concerning the League of Trinilon." Captain Hurst had gone over to the tactical station. Lieutenant Beckett. He seemed to make a point of avoiding her. He would be a perfect guinea pig.

So it was that later that evening when they were all off duty and free to do as they pleased that Dupin put her plan into action. She knew that on Wednesdays, Beckett and a few of the others met in one of the holodecks to play some games and have a quiet drink. She entered the holodeck, suddenly feeling a little nervous. She had set the fragrance to come out at its least concentrated but she wasn't entirely sure how Beckett – or anyone else for that matter – would react. Illiba Kask had described the effects, but no human male had been exposed to the Verin scent until now. The people already in there looked at her with some surprise. They weren't the crowd that she usually associated with – Beckett, Naron, Tay and some others. Still, she managed a friendly smile at them and went over to the simulated bar to get a drink. She scowled a little when she saw that Quella was also present. Beckett was trying to teach her how to play an ancient Earth game called darts.

"This isn't fun," Quella complained.

"It's a lot of fun. You've just not got the hang of it yet," Beckett answered, patiently.

"The Paradevans of the Beta quadrant have a similar game to this, except they use each other as targets," Quella said. "It's a lot more interesting." She took aim with the next dart.

"I'm sure it is," Beckett replied, though he winced at the prospect. He adjusted her grip on the dart and moved her arm a little. "Try it now."

"Hi." Dupin's sudden presence made Quella jump, and the dart went wide. She glared at Dupin and looked ready to give a demonstration of the Paradevan game that she had just mentioned. Beckett didn't look particularly enthused by Dupin's presence, either, but he managed a polite smile.

"Evening, Aimee. I've never seen you in here before," he said.

"Oh, I just fancied something different," she replied.

"I see," was all he said. He turned back to Quella, who had taken up another dart. Seeing that they were both distracted, Dupin discreetly sprayed a dose of the perfume that she had hidden on her person. She took a sip of her drink, pretending to be simply watching Beckett and Quella. Once again, Beckett helped Quella to get the right grip on the dart. She threw it and managed to hit the target.

"Well done," Dupin said.

"She'll be a pro in no time," Beckett replied, though he was looking at Dupin. "Do you know how to play?"

"Not at all," Dupin said. Beckett smiled at her.

"Want me to show you?"

"I'd like that." Dupin stood where Quella had, noting that Beckett had more or less blanked the half Q already. She picked up a dart and Beckett went though the same motions that he had with Quella. She threw the dart and even though it went wide, Beckett beamed at her.

"Not bad," he said. Dupin smiled back at him.

"Yes, it's not bad at all," she replied, though of course she meant something else. Beside them, Quella huffed.

"I'll leave you two to it," she said, and stalked off to elsewhere in the holodeck scenario.

"That's quite alright," Beckett said, still smiling at Dupin. Dupin picked up another dart.

"I think I'm going to like this game," she said.


	10. Gremlins

"Quella!"

"What is it?"

"You weren't at the bar last night."

"Why would I be? So that I'd be on hand for you to brush me off again for that _targ_ who goes by the name of Aimee Dupin?"

"I said I was sorry. I honestly don't know what that was about. You know I don't like Aimee, but suddenly it was as if she were the only woman in the universe."

"Yeah, I figured that out. I thought you actually wanted to be friends with me."

"I do, Quella."

"Really."

"Yes, really. Look, don't you think you're taking this a bit too personally?"

"You insulted me!"

"I told you, I didn't mean to. How can I make it up to you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, have a think about it and let me know, okay?" Beckett didn't get a reply as the lift doors closed between him and the half Q. He let out a long sigh. He'd managed to build up a reasonable friendship with Quella and got her integrated amongst some of the crew, but in that time he'd forgotten that Q had delicate egos. He waited patiently for the next turbolift to come along and stepped into it.

"Bridge." The incident with Dupin had been just over a week ago. It had been thoroughly bizarre in his mind. He had been compelled to be with Dupin for the rest of the evening in the holodeck for no apparent reason. He had awoken the next morning feeling as if he had had a rather bad dream. When he had arrived for duty, she had given him a weird smile that made him feel uneasy. After that, things seemed to have resumed normality between them. He assumed duty at the tactical station, noting that Dupin wasn't on the bridge. Hopefully she was working on something down in one of the labs. They had passed by an unusual nebula two days ago and stopped to conduct some scans and collect a sample of the gases. He looked at the information on his console. They would be entering back into space belonging to the League of Trinilon at some point later today. From what the captain had told him, he may well be busy in the coming weeks. As if he wasn't already. Well, you didn't become a Starfleet officer for relaxation purposes. He logged on for duty and began the routine checks. All systems normal. With the more mundane items out of the way, he settled on his seat and began dealing with some more detailed matters. When he worked on the finer details of tactical and security issues, Beckett tended to become absorbed in what he was doing. Therefore he jumped out of his skin when the red alert siren began blaring. He whipped around, wondering what crisis he was missing, only to find Commander D'Zira – and the rest of the bridge for that matter – staring at him.

"Lieutenant? I don't remember calling a red alert," D'Zira said.

"I didn't activate it either," Beckett answered. "I was working on some tactical data."

"Well, perhaps you could turn it off," D'Zira replied. Beckett nodded and pressed the command that would end the red alert. Nothing happened. He tried another command, with the same result. Meanwhile, the captain had come out of his ready room to see what the fuss was about.

"I think we have a system malfunction," D'Zira explained, seeing that Beckett was not having much luck trying to circumvent the problem.

"I see," Hurst looked irritated, though Beckett couldn't tell whether it was because of the noise or the fact that he had unnecessarily interrupted whatever he was working on in his office. Probably a bit of both, he decided.

"There were no indications of any problems," he offered.

"Clearly there's one now," Hurst replied.

"I'm getting reports of a sudden loss of gravity on Deck Six," Tay called over the blare of the siren. "I'm trying to rectify the problem."

"Evacuate the deck and run a maximum systems scan instead. I think we've got a wider problem developing," D'Zira said to him.

"Yes ma'am," Tay replied. He began the check. Thankfully, the red alert siren cut out at that moment.

"Thank you, Ewan," Hurst said.

"It wasn't me," Beckett replied. A second later, the siren started up again, this time sounding distorted. Hurst rolled his eyes upwards in despair and turned to his first officer, who was dealing with some more reports coming in from throughout the ship.

"There are malfunctions all over the place affecting all systems," she said. She shivered slightly. "Are you cold?"

"Now that you mention it…" Hurst replied. The temperature on the bridge was beginning to drop rapidly.

"I'm reading anomalies in the neural network of the ship's computer," Tay said, his breath visible in the cooling atmosphere.

"Are the environmental controls in the meeting room affected?" Hurst asked him.

"No… Well, not yet they're not," the young Bajoran replied.

"Then I suggest we all transfer there," Hurst said, rubbing his hands together to try and warm them up. The crew nodded, looking relieved at the suggestion, and headed towards the exits.

"Captain, may I suggest that I stay on the bridge? The low temperatures do not affect me," Orea said, rising from the helm.

"Yes, good thinking," Hurst replied. "But make sure that you have a means of escape should temperatures drop too low or the problems spread to life support."

"I'll open up one of the hatches," Orea said. Hurst nodded and proceeded to get into one of the lifts to follow everyone else to the meeting room.

And got the fright of his life as the turbolift plunged several decks before resuming a normal descent.

Recovering enough to find his voice, he ordered the computer to halt the turbolift, which it did obediently. After calming down, he asked the computer to take the lift back up to Deck Two. No movement. He asked again. Still no response. He tapped his combadge.

"Hurst to D'Zira."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I'm stuck in a lift somewhere in the ship. You carry on trying to get this matter resolved."

"Yes, Sir. I'll send someone to come and get you out as well," she replied, sounding as if her teeth were still chattering slightly.

"Thank you, Commander." Hurst leant against the wall of the lift. At least the red alert siren had stopped or was not sounding here. Wherever here was.

Meanwhile, Engineering was no better off than the bridge, except the temperature there was heading towards the other end of the scale. Lieutenant Truman almost tripped over a pile of jackets that had been deposited by the engineering staff and decided to add his own to the heap. He wiped some beads of sweat from his brow. Never mind the heat; it was the computer deciding to play random tracks of music from its vast library that annoyed him most. One moment it was some plucked instrument (which Ensign Sivok pointed out as being an ancient Vulcan lute composition by a composer called T'Kian, not that Truman particularly cared), the next a male voice singing in God-knows-what language. When a brass band blasted its way through the section, Truman nearly put a fist through his workstation. Nothing worked in disabling it. He knew from information piped through from elsewhere on the ship that Engineering was not the only department affected; however his was pretty vital to the running of things. Hence the need to try and stay as long as possible to deal with matters hands-on.

"I want everything possible diverted to try and protect the warp core," he said.

"I suggest powering it down," one of his underlings said.

"Try taking it to seventy percent and we'll see how it goes," Truman replied. "Yes, Quella?"

"I have a suggestion," she said, ignoring the lieutenant's impatient tone.

"I'm listening," Truman said, though he wasn't really interested. The former Q was always trying to butt in with 'suggestions'.

"Well, I think what you need to do…" she began, but then an alarm began blaring and Truman rushed off to deal with that. Quella scowled to herself. Well, fine. She was tired of him giving her the brush-off just because she wasn't in a Starfleet uniform. Perhaps it was time to take matters into her own hands.

* * *

Tay Barlis crawled along the Jefferies tube, tricorder in hand. Behind him followed Ewan Beckett. The two men had been assigned to look deeper into the problems Tay had detected with the computer. To do this, they needed to get to an area called the Core, but since all turbolifts were now down and it was too risky to try a site-to-site transport, they had to take the long way there. The comms system was also on the way out, so they were pretty much on their own.

"Picking up anything else?" Beckett asked.

"The problem is definitely with the neural network of the computer, but I can't tell what the specifics are yet," Tay replied.

"Well, we should reach a junction behind the next hatchway. Maybe we can tap into it there," Beckett said. They reached the hatch, only to find that it was jammed. Beckett tried inputting a few codes, but it made no difference, so Tay took out the manual door lever from its compartment. He was about to apply it to the hatch when it opened. Both he and Beckett let out a yelp of surprise. There, on the other side was Aimee Dupin.

"What happened to you?" Beckett asked, seeing that Dupin was soaking wet. The ensign scowled.

"It started raining in the hydroponics bay," she said.

"What were you doing in there?"

"I was in the labs when all these problems started. We couldn't get out of the main doors, so we used the tubes. The one we were in terminated in the central bay, where the controls were going haywire. They're going to be pissed once all this is sorted out," Dupin said. "The crops are going to be ruined."

"Where were you going?" Tay asked.

"To find you lot, actually," she replied. "The comms system was down, and I couldn't get an answer out of the computer, so I decided to head for the bridge."

"Ah, you don't want to go there at the moment," Beckett said. "Unless you're feeling homesick for those Canadian winters." Dupin gave him a dirty look.

"So where's the captain?" she asked.

"When we left the meeting room, he was stuck in a turbolift somewhere," Tay said.

"Oh," Dupin said. "What are you two doing?"

"We've traced the problem to something within the neural network. We were just on our way to the Core to try and diagnose things further," Beckett said. He and Tay squeezed past her onto the intersection platform.

"I see," Dupin said, watching them beginning to descend a ladder. Beckett popped his head up again.

"You can join us if you like," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "You might be able to give us a hand." Dupin weighed things up in her mind. Stick with two of her least favourite people…or wander around and have God knows what happen to her? And if the captain was stuck somewhere, she'd have to report to Commander D'Zira.

"Sure. Tell me what you've got so far," she said.

* * *

Back in Engineering, things were becoming unbearable. All but the most senior team had left the area.

"I don't believe it. The heat is causing the workstations to malfunction." Truman was beginning to despair.

"I think that we need to leave here and work from elsewhere, Sir," Ensign Sivok suggested. The Vulcan looked positively fresh as a daisy compared to most of his colleagues.

"I can't. I need to be here," Truman answered back. He took a breath, the air feeling thick from the heat. He couldn't leave… He had to look after things…

"Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant Truman?"

"Fine. I'm fine," Truman insisted. His vision was becoming blurry, but through the distortion, he saw some sort of energy field crackle into life around the warp core. He stirred out of his fatigue a little.

"What's that?" he asked. Sivok attempted to get an answer from a workstation.

"Someone outside the department has manipulated the insulating field around the warp core. I am not certain how. There is too much interference," he said. He looked at his senior officer. "I suggest that we should leave now that the objective has been completed."

"I…yeah…let me…" Truman mumbled, before he passed out.

* * *

Tay reconfigured his tricorder again.

"It's hard to see, but it looks as if there's an organic signature present."

"Are you sure that it's not a conflicting signal from the ship's organic parts?" Dupin asked. Tay gave her the tricorder.

"You'd know better, I suppose," he said, in deference. Dupin studied the readings for herself. Behind them, Beckett was trying to tap into a system that would allow them to make contact with their colleagues.

"Whatever this is, it's getting worse," he said.

"It can't be," Dupin said, more to herself than the others.

"What?" Tay asked.

"I need to get back to the labs," Dupin replied. She turned on her heel and began to make her way back to the ladder.

"Hey. Where'd you think you're going?" Beckett called after her.

"I told you. The labs."

"Why?"

"I think I know what's causing this," she said. She put a foot on the ladder.

"Care to enlighten us?" Beckett asked, following her.

"It's to do with the organic components in the nebula gases we collected a couple of days ago," she said. "Somehow they've got into the ship's systems and mutated. I'm going to find out how." She started up the ladder.

"Not by yourself you won't," Beckett replied, following her up.

"You and Barlis should continue to work on the comms system," Dupin said. They reached the top of the ladder and Beckett grabbed her arm.

"Who put you in charge?" he asked.

"And you are?" she responded. Beckett gave a snort of contempt.

"Oh, please. Don't make me pull rank and all that," he said.

"Isn't that more or less what you're doing now?" she replied.

"I'm being sensible," Beckett retorted. "The ship is getting too dangerous to just go and wander off by yourself."

"I can solve this," Dupin fired back.

"All by yourself, just like that?"

"I'm wasting time here," Dupin said. She tried to push past Beckett, but the security chief was having none of it.

"Look, you're not going to impress the captain or Commander D'Zira or whoever if you wind up dead."

"I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. I'd prefer not to have the extra paperwork at the moment, if it's all the same to you." They stood glaring at each other.

"Er…if you're done, we could do with getting to the computer core." They looked down to see Tay peering up at them. Beckett turned to Dupin.

"First we go to the Core. Then the labs. Together."

"Okay. We'll do it your way then," Dupin said, grudgingly. They opened up another hatch in the junction and went through into the Jefferies tube one by one. They didn't say much to each other until they approached the deck where the main computer core was situated.

"There's a loss of gravity on this deck," Tay said, reading the tricorder.

"Is life support okay?" Beckett asked.

"Temperature is a few degrees above normal, but apart from that, we should be all right," Tay replied. Beckett nodded, satisfied.

"I hope you both didn't fail your zero gravity classes," he said lightly to his two companions as he configured a force field to keep artificial gravity and zero gravity from making any further mischief once the doors were opened.

"I certainly didn't," Dupin replied as Beckett opened the hatchway. She waited for Beckett to tumble head first through the force field and followed him, Tay bringing up the rear. The three officers used the rungs of the ladder to pull themselves downwards to where they would exit the Jefferies tube system. Beckett opened the access point onto the corridor outside and the three of them floated to the ceiling.

"The Core is that way," Beckett said, pointing ahead of them.

"How far?" Dupin asked.

"Just around the corner," Beckett replied. He grasped hold of one of the little handles embedded in the ceiling of the corridor - for use in just such a scenario as this – and began pulling himself along.

"Much more fun getting around the ship like this isn't it?" he said over his shoulder to the two ensigns.

"Yeah, sure," Dupin replied.

* * *

A deck below them, Truman had come round, although he still felt ill from the effects of the heat. Someone had managed to get hold of some water, and he sipped it gratefully.

"No luck in contacting anyone?" he asked Sivok.

"No Sir. We have managed to get a crude tracker up and running though. We can find out where people are from their combadge signals, though there continues to be too much inference on the communications systems to make actual contact," the Vulcan replied.

"Where are the other senior officers?" Truman asked. Ensign Mucha tapped at a panel on the wall.

"Captain Hurst appears to be moving towards Deck Two. I would guess that his destination is the meeting room since that is where Commander D'Zira is. Lieutenant Commander Orea is on the bridge. Lieutenant Beckett is with Ensigns Tay and Dupin on… Deck Twelve, Sir," he answered.

"They must be trying to get to the computer core," Truman said. His brow furrowed slightly. "I thought Deck Twelve had lost gravity?"

"It has," Mucha replied.

"They're welcome to try some zero gravity acrobatics if they want," he said, and lowered his head. "I feel nauseous just thinking about it."

* * *

After some skilful twisting and turning, they finally entered the Core, feeling as if they had just run a marathon.

"I'm getting a better scan of these organic compounds now," Tay said. "They appear to be feeding off the ship's neural network."

"That explains why the problems appear to be random," Beckett said.

"Are they life forms?" Tay asked.

"Pass me the tricorder," Dupin said. Tay pushed the tricorder towards her. She caught it and then waved it around, mostly towards the central nucleus, and studied the readings.

"No, they're not what could be classified as life forms. More like pre-life forms," she said.

"So they have the potential to develop into life forms?" Tay asked.

"Given the right conditions, yes," Dupin replied.

"But there weren't any signs that they were pre-life forms when we collected the gases?"

"No. Something about the organic elements of the neural network has caused these alien compounds to accelerate in their development, but they seem to have stabilised for the moment," Dupin explained with all the patience of an exasperated mother.

"Right. So somehow we've got to purge them from the network," Beckett said.

"Without killing them," Tay said.

"Aimee just said that they weren't alive," Beckett said.

"But they have the potential to develop into a life form," Tay persisted. He looked at Dupin. "Isn't there a directive about that?"

"Obviously if they were actual life forms then we would be bound to try everything possible to remove them without harm," she replied after a pause. "I'm not so sure about pre-life forms, especially where the safety of the crew is concerned."

"But surely if we did something to help create these pre-life forms, then we have a responsibility for what happens to them?" Tay said.

"Well, what would you suggest?" Dupin asked, testily.

"I don't know – maybe take them back to the nebula where we found them?"

"Of course not. They'd never develop into anything frozen in space."

"What about finding an uninhabited planet?"

"And contaminate whatever ecosystem is already established?" Dupin retorted.

"Look, the priority is the ship," Beckett intervened. "If we can get rid of these things without destroying them then all well and good, but I'd rather we stopped their progress before they eat into the entire life support system."

"I need to get to the labs soon, before being in zero gravity affects us too much," Dupin said.

"I might be able to re-establish communications best by being in here," Tay said. Beckett nodded.

"I'll go with Aimee. You should try contacting Engineering first to see if Truman also has any ideas to fix the neural net. Then try and contact us."

"Okay," Tay said, and set about making his way over to a panel. Beckett and Dupin left him to it.

"I can't believe that you left him there alone," Dupin said, as they propelled themselves back along the corridor.

"He can handle it," Beckett replied. Dupin gave a short laugh that clearly indicated her disagreement with Beckett, but instead said,

"What if he gets into trouble? There's no gravity on this deck; it's not as if he can run if the life support fails."

"If everything is okay at the lab, then I'll come back to him and leave you in peace to save the universe," Beckett replied, scooting ahead to avoid the expression he knew would be on Dupin's face. He questioned again how the hell he had stomached an entire evening with her. He wished that he could forget it, but the instincts that served him as chief security officer kept the issue on the backburner. He knew though that she'd never admit to anything out of the ordinary, and since she hadn't brought the matter up, he was prepared to leave well alone – for the time being.

Tay looked around him, slightly apprehensive. He had never been by himself in the Core before. It was eerie being alone with what was essentially the brain of the ship. Thick bundles of organic matter combined with man-made materials to create the latest technology. But the Innovation-class ships were not sentient. The Core represented a very complex computer, but a very simple brain. The technology could be taken further though. With the main breakthroughs made by the Millennium Mission out of the way, many predicted that the Federation would turn its attention to the development of ships that were sentient to different degrees – something that had already got off the ground years earlier with ships built specifically for defence. The idea gave Tay the creeps. Where would something like that end? He thought about their current mission. If _Genesis_ had full sentience, would she actually be willing to travel to Andromeda? What would have happened if she had decided that she'd rather go and explore the Whirlpool galaxy instead? Would Starfleet have to force her to do their will, which would surely violate some edict of the rights of non-biological life forms?

"Get this fixed before your lunch comes up," he said to himself. The disorientation of being in zero gravity combined with a humid atmosphere was beginning to get to him. He managed to get himself to the communications section, hooking his feet under a strut so that he'd stay put. He began to analyse the communications network, and noticed evidence of others trying to get around the problems. That was good; now he had to find a way of joining the dots. He rerouted, doubled back and bypassed functions as he feverishly worked on making a connection. After some false starts, he tentatively tapped at his combadge.

"Tay to Lieutenant Truman." He waited for a few seconds. He was about to write off another failure when an answer crackled back to him.

"_Truman here. I take it that you've managed to restore communications, Barlis?_"

"Just to you. I'm in the Core. I picked up on some tracking device coming from your deck. You're not in Engineering?"

"_No. It's like a furnace in there. We had to leave_."

"I could do with a hand here. Beckett's helping Aimee get to the laboratories."

"_I'll send somebody up. I'll have to work from down here. I'm not in a condition to face zero gravity_."

"That's fine. I'll explain what we've discovered so far."

It had taken some inventive jiggerypokery to get a more encompassing basic communications system established, but it was better than nothing. The crew were now able to discuss their options from their different places on the ship.

"We can't use an electrolyte surge. That would wreck the neural network completely," Truman said.

"What about creating something equivalent to a magnet, to draw these compounds away?" Tay suggested.

"You're serious about trying to save these things, aren't you?" Dupin said.

"They should be given a chance," Tay replied.

"We haven't got time to work on a solution that works both ways," Truman said.

"I'd have to agree on that from a tactical point of view," Beckett said. "Even though Lieutenant Commander Orea took the ship down to half impulse, we're not far off from re-entering space belonging to the League of Trinilon. We need to be up and running at maximum efficiency in case we bump into the Nephellan or similar."

"Tay, I understand what you're saying, but I must agree that our needs have to come first," Hurst said.

"Yes Captain," the young Bajoran acknowledged. If he hadn't been in zero gravity, he would have slumped in dejection.

"The best way to deal with this would be to treat the organic compounds as a virus," Dupin said.

"So we get rid of them with an anti-virus," Truman said. "Sounds possible."

"Have you created one yet, Aimee?" Hurst asked.

"I'm still working on it, Sir," Dupin replied.

"How many people have you got working with you?"

"There's just me," Dupin answered, after a pause.

"I'm assuming that there are some suitable people in your department still around to give you a hand," Hurst replied. In the lab, Dupin bit her lip slightly, glad that no one was on hand to see her flush at the captain's tone of voice.

"Yes Sir," she said.

"Also, work with Lieutenant Truman on how to put this anti-virus into the system."

"Yes Captain," Dupin replied, feeling some of the wind drop out of her sails. She did as she was told, however, not wishing to incur any actual wrath from Captain Hurst.

"Keep me informed, all of you," Hurst said, ending the meeting-of-sorts.

* * *

Just over two hours later, an anti-virus was ready to be released into the Core. Dupin had carefully taken the vial down to Deck Twelve herself. It was compensation for having to share the glory of creating the anti-virus with other members of the science department. She looked at Tay, who seemed despondent.

"There'll be plenty of actual life forms for you to save in the future," she said.

"Do you know where to release it?" Tay said, skipping over the issue.

"Primary synapse generator," Dupin replied. She proceeded to do a few graceful twists that propelled her to the said point.

"I'm about to release the anti-virus," she said into her communicator.

"Standing by," Truman replied. Dupin released the contents of the vial into the system. They waited with baited breath.

"The anti-virus is multiplying and beginning to spread along the network," Dupin said, configuring a tricorder. "It's breaking down the alien organic compounds."

"The Core has been cleared," Tay said, reading information off a panel.

"I can see the neural network clearing, but I think I'm going to have to configure and release the synaptic repair peptides manually," Truman told them.

"Okay. I'm ready with the main systems reset once the repairs have finished," Tay said.

"The anti-virus has purged the network of the organic compounds. I'm activating the repair peptides," Truman said. Tay and Dupin watched as the bundles of tissue making up the organic part of the Core glowed slightly as the peptides got to work repairing the damage caused by the alien compounds. After a few minutes, the glow died down and something beeped on the panel near Tay.

"Repairs are complete," he said. "I'm resetting the main system. There'll be a blackout on all primary functions except life support for around ten minutes."

"Acknowledged," Truman said. Tay entered the necessary commands and a fraction of a second later, the room was plunged into almost complete darkness along with the rest of the ship. After the longest ten minutes anyone on board had known, there came the sound of things powering up followed by the lights flickering back on to full intensity. Down a deck, Truman breathed a sigh of relief as he noted that temperatures in Engineering were beginning to come down to normal. At the other end of things on the bridge, Lieutenant Commander Orea watched as all the consoles sputtered back to life under the layer of frost that had enveloped them.

"Oh well," he said to himself as the temperature began to rise. "It was nice while it lasted."

* * *

Dupin stood in the ready room before Captain Hurst and Commander D'Zira giving her account of her part in the recent crisis, being careful to emphasise just how important she had been. She finished on her description of releasing the anti-virus and waited for a response.

"One thing that I'd be interested to hear, Ensign, is how these organic compounds managed to escape from the laboratories and into the neural network in the first place." Dupin sighed inwardly. She had hoped that D'Zira wouldn't have the first word. Trust the commander to nit-pick.

"We had to look at that whilst we were creating the anti-virus," she answered. "There was nothing wrong with the containers used to collect the samples of nebula gas. It seems that it was a simple case of contamination. But the labs and everyone working there have been through a decontamination process."

"I hope that you will investigate the matter further for inclusion in your report," D'Zira replied.

"Yes Ma'am," Dupin said, feeling sure that the commander was out to humiliate her in front of the captain.

"You played your part well in solving the problems, Aimee," Hurst said. "But I'd like you to talk to your staff and make sure that everyone is aware of the importance of procedures. I don't want a repeat of this incident."

"I will do, Captain." She felt a pang as for the second time that day she received a mild telling off from him.

"You may go," Hurst said. Dupin bobbed her head and left the room, fuming that everyone was apparently conspiring to make her look bad. After she had gone, the next people to make their appearance in front of Hurst and D'Zira were Lieutenant Truman and Quella, both keen to air their grievances.

"You can't just go around doing what suits you," Truman glared at the Q.

"Well maybe if you listened to me once in a while I wouldn't have to," Quella fired back.

"You messed around with the warp core!"

"It's intact and functioning perfectly, so what's your point?"

"Areas like that are not your prerogatives."

"Even as a human, I absorb information at a far greater rate than you do. Whilst you've been sending me to tighten screws and realign replicators I've been doing a great deal of reading. I could probably replace you as chief engineer," retorted Quella, insolently. Truman looked utterly indignant at her remarks and was about to reply when the captain intervened.

"I don't want to hear any more of this," Hurst said, tiring of the bickering. "Quella, I've told you before that you can't simply do as you please whilst living on this ship. On the other hand, Michael, perhaps it is time to give Quella a wider scope of tasks other than routine maintenance."

"But Sir…" Truman began to protest.

"A new junior officer assigned to your department would have moved on to other things by now," Hurst said, pointedly.

"I know Sir. I'll sort something out."

"And Quella?"

"Yes Captain?"

"If I hear of any more instances like today, I won't be so lenient next time."

"I understand, Captain." Quella looked the picture of innocence.

"Good. I hope that we can move on from this. Dismissed." Hurst watched as they left the room. He turned to his first officer.

"You're supposed to deal with that sort of thing before it gets to this stage," he said.

"Captain?"

"Problems between members of crew should be reconciled by you so that people don't end up having petty arguments in my ready room."

"If I may say so Sir, how can I deal with issues if they are not raised with me?" The voice at the back of Hurst's mind answered with a sarcastic _You're a telepath, aren't you?_ However, his verbal answer was,

"They shouldn't have to be. You're the Executive Officer. In some ways, you should know the crew better than me."

"I will work on the matter, Captain."

"I know you will, Commander. So far you've not had to be told twice." Hurst sat back in his chair, and D'Zira knew that she was allowed to leave, which she did. Hurst turned to the computer on his desk, re-reading the information he already knew. They had once again ventured into the territory of the League of Trinilon, and would not pass out of it for several weeks. He hoped that the next member they encountered would be less hostile than the Nephellan.

* * *

With all systems returned to normal some hours later, the crew could relax. Or, at least try to. Orea and Beckett joined a very twitchy looking Truman.

"Feeling better, Mike?" Beckett asked. Truman's near-black eyes darted upwards.

"It's Michael," he replied, as his companions sat down at the table.

"Whatever," Beckett shrugged. "I heard that it was getting pretty warm in your department." Truman felt his stomach turn slightly at the recollection of the overwhelming heat and decided that he needed to take his mind off it.

"I'd have coped better without Quella sticking her nose in," he said.

"I'm sure that she was only trying to be helpful," replied Orea.

"Ha. Helpful," snorted Truman, disdainfully.

"She might be the only person on board who's older than Naron, but she's still just a kid," said Beckett.

"A spoiled brat of a kid," Truman replied. "If that's what a few centuries of omnipotence do to you, then I'll happily take my few decades of mortality." He took a sip of coffee and decided that a few hours immersed in some technical detail would be the best medication for his nerves, after his caffeine intake.

"You can always request for her to be moved," Orea reminded him. Truman shook his head.

"She'd see it as some sort of victory. I won't give her the satisfaction," he said.

"Quella's not like that," Beckett said.

"Let her work for you for a few weeks and see," Truman retorted. Beckett took a drink from his cup.

"I know her about as well as I can and better than you do. In all honesty, she just wants to feel appreciated."

"I run an engineering department, not a bloody feel-good retreat on Betazed," the chief engineer fired back. "I expect people to work hard as a matter of course."

"You forget though, Michael, that Quella isn't Starfleet," said Orea, gently.

"Don't I know it," Truman grumbled. The three of them sat in silence for a little while before Truman spoke again.

"Ever wonder about Commander Wheeler?" he asked.

"No," Orea said. Beckett shook his head.

"Seems like a lifetime ago," he said.

"I can't claim to be a friend of the captain's, but I have known him longer than anybody here, except for Wheeler," said Truman.

"Your point?" Beckett asked.

"I can't help thinking that things might be different if Wheeler were still around. It's a shame that we can't look into some parallel universe in order to see if that's the case."

"Why?" Beckett asked. Truman swirled the dregs of his coffee.

"Oh…just to compare notes, if you know what I mean," he said. Beckett took a swig from his own beverage.

"I do, but it's not very fair – we didn't really know Wheeler, for a start."

"But the Captain did," Truman pointed out.

"His personal stuff isn't anything to do with us," Beckett said.

"Well, it's hardly a bed of roses between him and D'Zira is it?" Truman pressed.

"So let them work it out," Beckett replied.

"I agree," Orea said, looking at Truman. "I think that it's wrong to speculate on such matters, Lieutenant."

"Fair enough," Truman said, knowing that he was outnumbered. He gulped down the rest of his coffee and got up to head for the relative sanctuary of Engineering. Beckett turned to Orea.

"He did have a point though."

"I'm not going to be drawn on it," Orea replied.

"Don't worry, I understand your position," Beckett said. "I'm not going to put you between a rock and a hard place."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Orea. Beckett smiled somewhat enigmatically and raised his cup to take another sip.


	11. The League of Trinilon Part One

_Security and Tactical Chief's Log, stardate 677229.25: It has been three days since I have been able to make a detailed log entry. For over two of those days, we were under almost constant attack and it is only now that I am able to sit down and give a more detailed account of our recent troubles._

_The ship suffered no lasting damage from the mutated organic compounds and we continued to travel further into the territory of the League of Trinilon, unhindered. Quella was able to provide only fractured information on some of the Trinilon species, claiming that it had been many years since she passed through these parts and the League was not even in existence then. Fortunately, we have had other methods to enable us to plan ahead._

_As expected from the tactical data Captain Hurst obtained from the Jandrhys on stardate 677168, we encountered no signs of members of the League for two further days. From what I have been able to gather, the League of Trinilon is a power much in its infancy, despite its rapid expansion, and as such lacks the cohesion of some planetary alliances in our own galaxy, including the Federation. Hence why some members, such as the Nephellan, will act under their own volition. Our course is not expected to take us through the heart of the League of Trinilon; however we will pass by areas controlled by some of the more aggressive members. _

_We did consider the possibility of bypassing the League of Trinilon altogether, but after studying the available data we possessed of this region of the Andromeda galaxy, I concluded that it would be far more straightforward to go through it, especially given the manner in which the territory overlaps with that of the Jandrhys, a people we are assured of a safe berth with. The captain agreed with me in this, although I also believe that he was interested in learning more about the League as a comparison to the Federation. Commander D'Zira was slightly more hesitant about the course of action and suggested that we should simply slipstream through the area. Captain Hurst argued that it defeated the point of the challenge of exploring unknown space to just cut out the bits that might prove difficult or dangerous or boring – "Sometimes you take risks". Commander D'Zira agreed with him to an extent, but also thought that the captain was potentially placing the ship in the path of avoidable confrontations. The captain replied that the emphasis was on 'potentially', unless the commander had added precognitive abilities to her psychic repertoire, after which the conversation moved on to other matters._

_With the assistance of Commander Orea, I had plotted a course that I believed would offer the least trouble for the ship, whilst not delaying us for too long inside the area. This route would add approximately six days to the estimated traversal time I gave in my log on stardate 677174.5, provided that we did not encounter serious resistance. The extra days will push our projected time of exit from the territory of the League of Trinilon closer to our expected rendezvous date with the rest of the Millennium Mission fleet. Though Captain Hurst was light-hearted in his statement that he did not wish to be the last ship there, I knew that he was serious about keeping to schedule, as always. _

_Several days after the incident with the compounds we still seemed to be making good progress, until we inadvertently wandered into what would best be described as a neighbourly dispute between two members of the League; the Agris and the Myreth, neither of whom were considered a high risk threat based on the information we had obtained. Unfortunately, rather than concentrating on each other, both species decided that we were worth the attention of their combined efforts…_

The atmosphere of the Bridge appeared hazy, as a fine smoke from an unseen source drifted amongst the furnishings and crew. It diffused the light of the red alert klaxon, bathing the area in a strange crimson glow. A sparking terminal near the engineering station hissed its last breath in a cloud of plasma and promptly expired. The lieutenant manning the station did not pay any attention to the death throes, being too busy concentrating on inputting commands and algorithms that would counteract any ill effects of the recent volley of fire.

"Report."

"Minimal damage, Captain. Mostly blown conduits."

"Why the lesser damage than what we got from the Nephellan?"

"A difference in the level of technology. The Agris and Myreth ships seem fairly evenly matched with each other, but the Nephellan would probably squish them," Beckett said.

"Then they shouldn't be too much of a problem for us if they come back," Hurst replied. Beckett looked at a tactical interface.

"They're back," he said.

"They must be able to tell that they're outgunned, even though there are more of them," Hurst said, just before the sound of a fresh burst of fire rumbled through the ship. "Hail them."

"No reply," Tay said, after a pause.

"Try again," Hurst said, and turned back to Beckett.

"If we returned fire directly, it wouldn't take much to blast them into oblivion," the lieutenant replied. "They have comparatively basic shields. Although our obtained data didn't specify, from sensor analysis I'd say that both races have only been serious space farers for around a hundred and fifty to two hundred years."

"Still no reply, Sir," Tay said. Hurst looked at the viewscreen, seeing the Myreth and Agris ships darting around _Genesis_ like moths around a lamp. The fine smoke on the Bridge became a little thicker, but still nothing to be concerned about. It seemed like an obvious situation – the small ships might as well have been trying to stop an elephant with a fly swatter.

"This is Captain Hurst of the USS _Genesis Millennia_. I request that you cease your unprovoked attack on my ship," he said, activating a communications channel. The only reply was more fire.

"I don't wish to take action that could see you destroyed," the captain tried again. He got no verbal response. "Beckett, prepare to fire warning shots. Perhaps that might scare them off."

"Aye Sir."

"Agris and Myreth ships, this is your final warning." There was still no response other than another attack. Hurst shook his head slightly.

"Fire warning shots, Lieutenant."

"Aye Captain. Firing warning." Beckett sent a spread of low powered phaser fire out towards the smaller ships. The Agris and Myreth did not appear to be frightened by the show; rather they seemed encouraged by it, for they responded with a stronger, coordinated attack which caused the ship to jolt slightly off its intended axis.

"Either we're target practice for them, or they're extremely determined to beat us," Beckett said, sending out some more warning fire.

"They could be after our technology," Hurst mused. "There is a large discrepancy between them and the Nephellan. Obviously power is not equal within the League."

"They must be pretty desperate if they're willing to take pot-shots at us then," Beckett answered. "Do you want me to give them a more direct reply?"

"No, not yet," Hurst said. "We've still got a long way to go through this part of space and the fewer enemies we make, the better."

"I think they've already made up their minds on that, Sir," Beckett replied. Hurst didn't answer him, instead turning to Orea.

"No luck in outmanoeuvring them?"

"No Sir. Although they're a lot smaller, they are swift, and from their coordination, I would say that they have had some practice at this," Orea said, without taking his amber eyes off the helm controls or the viewscreen. "They seem to know how to block every evasive pattern I've tried so far. We're slowly being diverted deeper into the territory of the League."

"Ewan, did the data you study mention tactics like this?"

"No, Captain. The Agris and Myreth were not even noted as being allies – which they still didn't appear to be when we stumbled into their dogfight," Beckett said. "The most obvious reason would be that the data given to us was out of date."

"But?"

"The proximity of this region of space to the Jandrhys station we stopped at is not so great that up to date information would be hard to come by. Never mind the fact that the Jandrhys are allied with the League," replied Beckett. The attacking ships were continuing to fire on them during the conversation, however since they were more of an irritation than a threat, there was nearly a lack of urgency on the bridge. Hurst gave the viewscreen an almost annoyed glance before looking back at his tactical officer.

"I have good faith in the source of our information," he said to Beckett.

"In that case, at the moment the only other thing I can suggest is that they were waiting for us," Beckett replied. "We're new and unique in the area; all it would have taken is one person on the space station to put the word out."

"We don't leave any ion trails or other signs in our wake. How would someone have been able to track us from the station and determine our destination?"

"They wouldn't have, necessarily. If the Agris and Myreth had heard about us, it would be a simple matter of calculating a projected window for when we might be expected to pass into the area and agreeing to put aside their differences in order to attack us," suggested Beckett. "If that's true, it happens that they got lucky."

"Well, so far their luck hasn't come to much," Hurst said. He looked once again at the viewscreen, seeing the small ships dart about frantically. More of their fire rumbled harmlessly across the outermost shields of the _Genesis Millennia_, making a pretty display of colours but otherwise not inflicting serious harm.

"Alright, they've had a go. I want something that will disable but not destroy them."

"A small antimatter scythe should do the trick," Beckett said. Hurst nodded.

"Do it."

_It worked – sort of. After only one sweep of the antimatter scythe, the Agris and Myreth finally seemed to realise that perhaps trying to encourage a serious confrontation with us was not a particularly good idea after all. They appeared to back off, though they did not leave us altogether. I feel that I should have known at that point they had other things to surprise us with. I should have disabled the rest of them; however we believed that the message had gotten across, and the remaining Agris and Myreth were simply making a show of chasing us out of their space. With their technology being so basic compared to our own, it was easy to make assumptions rather than remain on guard._

_Regardless, after the Agris and Myreth had ceased their attack and dropped back, Commander Orea turned the ship back towards our original course. Our entourage followed. We had not got very far when Ensign Tay noticed that there was possibly more bother ahead. I confirmed his readings: there was a small armada of ships heading in our direction on an intercept course, consisting of Agris, Myreth and a new species. Our battle must have been a stalling tactic. Through a crosscheck with our data, I identified the largest ship as belonging to a race called the Taj'ik. I knew instantly that we could have some real trouble – the Taj'ik were one of the races that I had made course adjustments for in order to try and avoid contact. They were noted as being aggressive fighters who tended to hound opponents to destruction rather than fight them directly. In all probability, they were the ringleaders were in this mini alliance. I informed Captain Hurst of my thoughts and he ordered the appropriate defensive action. But even as the crew began to implement his orders, the Agris and Myreth ships that were behind us suddenly did something unexpected…_

"Captain, two Agris ships are breaking formation." Ensign Tay sounded surprised and a little unsure of what he should make of the developing situation.

"On screen, reverse angle," Hurst said. Tay did as asked, and the crew on the Bridge looked to the viewscreen. Sure enough, two ships were angling upwards and away from the rest of their collective. They disappeared off the screen, but Beckett and Tay kept tracking them, Beckett also keeping an eye on the approaching reinforcements heading in their direction. The experienced perceptiveness of the tactical chief meant that he realised what was happening the instant the two deviant ships altered course again.

"They're on a collision course with us, Captain."

"Orea, evasive manoeuvres. Lieutenant, immobilize them." Hurst settled into his chair.

"All twelve ships are breaking formation," Tay said. Hurst turned around to look at him.

"All twelve? They've all purposely placed themselves onto a collision course with us?"

"Yes Captain," Tay replied.

"Some people just can't take rejection," Beckett remarked, working with the rest of his colleagues to try and alleviate the threat posed to them. The ships were small enough that the regenerative outer elliptical shields might be able to protect _Genesis_ from one direct collision, but not a dozen practically all at the same time. This fact was driven home when one of the ships managed to dodge the fire from _Genesis_' weapons and grazed the shields protecting the underbelly of the Federation starship, Orea's piloting preventing a more serious incident. The impact was still enough to cause severe damage to the Myreth ship, tearing a wing off along with a sizeable chunk of the vessels' side and sending the little ship into a spin that ended in a fiery death. The outer shields of the _Genesis Millennia_ reverberated from the contact, but held.

"Engineering's taken the main brunt of the collision…minor injuries, no serious damage," Tay reported, just before a far bigger explosion rocked the ship.

_We took a direct hit from another ship that had been directly behind the first. It smashed into our shields in exactly the same spot as the glancing blow moments before. Because the outer shields had not had the chance to fully regenerate from the first impact, the force of the explosion punched straight through to the secondary shields, which held, but did not stop Engineering from feeling most of the force - again. Since the collision was larger, so were the consequences in Engineering. There were two fatalities – one immediate, one later in sickbay – plus a range of injuries. Fortunately, neither chief engineer Lieutenant Truman or Commander D'Zira – who had been down in Engineering before the attack began - were amongst the casualties. _

_The main technological casualties were our propulsion systems. Lieutenant Truman was forced to disengage the slipstream matrix from the warp systems as a safety measure. A little ironic, considering that such a procedure would leave us unable to engage a slipstream jump and therefore reliant on standard warp drive._

_The remaining ten vessels were dealt with before they too could add to the havoc. By this time, the Taj'ik armada was within range and hailing us…_

The crew who were present on the Bridge found themselves looking at a man who would have been quite handsome had he not such an insufferably smug look on his face. He seemed to know only too well that he had both looks and brains.

"Alien vessel. I am informing you that, under Section Three, Paragraph Alpha, of Taj'ik celestial laws, you are now the property of the Taj'ik Supreme Council."

"I'm not familiar with Taj'ik celestial laws. Please could you enlighten us as to the nature of our alleged transgression?" Hurst asked.

"You trespassed," the alien smirked.

"Unwillingly," Hurst replied. "We were forced into your territory by Agris and Myreth ships, similar to those which are accompanying your own."

"Really?" The alien's expression turned to one of mock surprise. "Those little ships managed to divert your mighty vessel off its course?"

"They seemed to be rather insistent," Hurst said.

"You have an interesting ship," the alien said. "Technology is something of a commodity in these parts of Trinilon space. That is why we Taj'ik have a little alliance with the Agris and Myreth. We have learnt to help each other out."

"They keep guard, you come in and pick up the spoils?" Hurst asked. The alien sniggered.

"Something like that," he said. "Your ship would vastly increase our power and standing within the League."

"It probably would," Hurst agreed. "If I were prepared to hand it over to you."

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," the alien said, somewhat snidely. "You have trespassed. You now belong to the Taj'ik. You have little choice in the matter."

"I dispute your claim," Hurst replied. "It is clear to me that we would not have trespassed if it hadn't been for your 'allies'. I can send you data regarding our intended route through this region of space as proof." The alien seemed to consider this, the arrogant look of his face unwavering. With an exaggerated sigh, he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm not particularly interested in maps and details," he said. He steepled his fingers together. "But I suppose that I _could_ be persuaded to overlook this incident in exchange for other things."

"Such as?" Even as he feigned interest, Hurst already had an idea of what the Taj'ik was going to ask for.

"You have so much technology tucked away on that nice, shiny ship of yours. All those different torpedoes, for instance. They must drag your warp factor down by a nanosecond or two, surely? And your energy weapon arrays must take up so much power on your little ship – no wonder you didn't use them to their full advantage."

"I'd be happy to demonstrate their full power to you," Hurst said, dryly. The alien pursed his lips slightly, unfazed by the thinly veiled threat.

"You'd find that Taj'ik vessels stand up rather well to energy weapons," he said. "Even ones as powerful as yours."

"I can trade in many things, but technology isn't one of them," Hurst told the Taj'ik, who gave another exaggerated sigh.

"Not even one or two power relays, or whatever is equivalent on your ship?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"How about a few innocuous techno-organic components and that woman?" The alien's gaze had switched to look at D'Zira, who had just entered the Bridge and came to stand by the captain.

"My crew is not for trade, either," Hurst said. The alien laughed, though the sound was without any real humour.

"Telepaths are fun to have around, aren't they?" He smiled at D'Zira.

"That would be none of your business," she said evenly, giving a verbal response to the Taj'ik's telepathic inquiry. Then she added, "I agree, but your telepathy is limited." The Taj'ik simply smirked in response to the retort and turned his attention back to Hurst.

"The offer still stands. You probably won't get a better one."

"My answer is still 'no'," Hurst replied.

"Such a shame," the alien commented. "However, it makes little difference. Since it seems unlikely that we will come to an agreement, I'm afraid that the transgression must stand."

"I maintain that we are here under false circumstances," said Hurst. "I challenge your assertion that we have merely trespassed." The alien laughed humourlessly again.

"Protest all you wish. There is no appeal process," he said. "And no, you can't invoke any laws pertaining to the League. As non members, you have no rights or jurisdiction here."

"You read my mind," Hurst said.

"It wasn't difficult," the alien shot back. "You have a comparatively simple brain structure."

"I don't like clutter," Hurst replied.

"Well, allow me to relieve you of some," the alien said. He resumed a slightly more businesslike tone of voice. "Under Section Three, Paragraph Alpha of Taj'ik celestial law, a trespassing vessel is required to surrender unconditionally. Members of the Taj'ik Patrol Force must be allowed onto the seized vessel in order to coordinate the journey to the Taj'ik penal centre in sector One-Beta of Taj'ik controlled space. Upon arrival at the penal centre, all members of crew are to leave the seized vessel and report to the control centre to await penalties. In the meantime, the seized vessel will be taken to the appropriate Taj'ik authorities and dealt with as they see fit."

_Needless to say, Captain Hurst was unwilling to just hand over the ship to the Taj'ik, especially when he felt he had good reason to contest the charge that was being brought against us. However, he also knew that the Taj'ik were going to be difficult to fight, especially if that fight was going to be sustained. It was also clear to us now that the Agris and Myreth were pretty much under the thumb of the Taj'ik and we knew firsthand just how far they were prepared to go in order to do the dirty work for their 'allies'. To me, it was as obvious as it was to the captain that we had been purposely targeted and forced into Taj'ik space. Given those circumstances, I felt that we had the right to defy the Taj'ik laws. If we were to go along with their Patrol Force representative and end up at their penal centre, it would be highly unlikely that we would see the ship again, even if we ourselves escaped severe punishment. The captain came to the same conclusion; however, there was the extra factor of our Taj'ik opponent possessing telepathic abilities, even if they were, to quote Commander D'Zira, 'limited'._

_To describe what happened next will sound drawn out, but in reality, took seconds to unfold. Even before Captain Hurst could begin to give Commander Orea the order to get us out of there, the Taj'ik had already picked up on the thought. However, Commander D'Zira was in turn ahead of the Taj'ik. As Captain Hurst began to give his order, D'Zira jumped in and ordered Orea to take the ship into evasive manoeuvre Gamma-Delta Five and then ordered me to fire on the surrounding Myreth and Agris ships. As the ship swept downwards, some weapons fire from the Taj'ik vessel caught our tail end. Even that little tap packed a fairly heavy punch, and didn't go down well in Engineering, where they were still working hard to recover from the Agris ship slamming into us. Having got the jump on the Agris and Myreth ships, it was not too hard to render them inoperative in the same manner as their earlier counterparts. The captain gave the commander an odd glance – surprise mixed in with something else – but he said nothing to her as he gave the order to dispatch the Taj'ik ship and escape their space._

_This was admittedly easier said than done. The Taj'ik Patrol Force officer had been quite correct in his assertion that his ship held a degree of resistance to energy weapons – in fact, our phasers were practically useless against him. The shields of his ship were designed not only to absorb most of the blast, but also to convert the energy into a form useful to other aspects of the ship. The Taj'ik's own main weapons were interesting in that they seemed to be designed to knock an opponent around rather than blow them out of existence. Onboard the ship, each strike felt like… Well, imagine being foolish enough to take a shuttle though gravimetric rapids on more than just thrusters – and without wearing a seat restraint. Not that I am referring in any way to myself in that example, of course…_ _Nevertheless_, _the Taj'ik blasters hit the shields like a sledgehammer._ _For the record, the shields held up fine under the barrage – which was perhaps more than could be said for the ship itself and her crew… _

To stand was more or less impossible. As soon as one had regained a firm footing, another strike from the Taj'ik vessel sent you down on the floor again. Sitting on a chair was a little better – provided you remembered to hold on.

"Remind me why I opted not to have restraints installed," Hurst grumbled as he picked himself off the floor and returned to his chair. "That was rhetorical," he added, thinking that D'Zira was about to reply.

"I wouldn't have known anyway, Captain," she replied, flatly. Hurst looked towards the viewscreen.

"Is the Taj'ik still able to get any information telepathically?" he asked D'Zira.

"No. As I indicated before, he only has limited telepathy. Earlier, he could barely pick off what was uppermost in your mind. He couldn't read you now. He certainly couldn't get anything from me." The latter part of her reply was rather pointed.

"Good. That's what I want to hear," was all Hurst said. He raised his voice slightly. "Torpedoes, Mr Beckett?"

"Recommend triphasic or plasmitron, Sir," the lieutenant replied. Hurst stood, holding onto a rail just in case another blast hit the ship.

"Orea, pattern Alpha-Epsilon Three. Lieutenant Beckett, ready a low yield plasmitron torpedo. Target their primary weapons array."

"Torpedo armed and ready, Captain." Everyone kept their eyes on the viewscreen, some flinching when the Taj'ik ship sent out another high powered blast that grazed past as _Genesis_ veered out of harms way by looping deftly around her aggressor. Then she came around and faced the enemy vessel, moving straight towards it.

"Fire." Beckett didn't need to be given the order a second time. The torpedo exited on a perfect trajectory towards its target. Seconds later, it pierced straight through the Taj'ik shields and detonated cleanly against the array from which the troublesome energy blasts originated. Hurst moved down towards the helm.

"Get us out of here," he said.

"Aye Sir," Orea replied. The ship swung back in the direction of its intended course.

"We're being hailed by the Taj'ik, Captain," said Tay.

"Put him on," Hurst said, moving to the centre of the Bridge. A moment later, the arrogant face of the Taj'ik patrol officer appeared once again on the viewscreen.

"I think you'll find that it would have been better to surrender your ship," he said.

"We'll see," Hurst replied.

"Yes, we will," the Taj'ik said. "One ship against the might of eighty-seven worlds. I hope you like those odds. I certainly do." With that, he cut the communications link and the viewscreen returned to the image of stars zipping past at warp speed. Hurst stared at it for a moment before returning to his chair.

"Maintain yellow alert," he said, not looking at anyone. "Keep a look out for other ships." He steepled his fingers together and appeared to sink into a contemplative silence. With the cutting of the red alert klaxon and the end of enemy fire which had been assaulting their senses for the past hour or so, the Bridge seemed almost eerily quiet, despite the normal levels of background chatter.

"Engineering reports that it will be some time before they are able to reengage the slipstream matrix," D'Zira said. Hurst turned his head to look at her.

"I wasn't planning to use it in the immediate future," he answered.

"May I ask why?"

"We've already had this discussion, haven't we?"

"That was before we came under attack, Sir," she replied.

"My reasons still stand, Commander. Our primary mission is to explore. I'm not about to ignore that just because of one officious individual."

"Neither should you make the assumption that there was no substance behind his parting words. Our current record with members of the League is not exactly in our favour," D'Zira said.

"Well, we can't turn around, our intended trajectory is the best possible route and using slipstream is not an option," said Hurst. "What would you suggest?"

"Call for another of our fleet to join us," D'Zira said.

"We're not exactly in dire straits," Hurst replied.

"Do we have to be before we ask for assistance?" D'Zira asked. Their quiet yet intense conversation was beginning to get the occasional curious glance from others on the Bridge and Hurst decided that it was time to put the discussion to rest.

"Your thoughts are noted, Commander, but it's still early days. I don't want to lend credence to the Nephellan's suggestion that we're an invasion force," he said. For a fraction of a second there was an odd look in D'Zira's eyes, but then she gave a small nod.

"Very well, Captain."

_The respite did not last long, unfortunately. Just when we looked to be within touching distance of escaping the territory, two more Taj'ik vessels appeared which were of a different configuration to the patrol vessel that we had encountered. They were sturdier, faster ships and proceeded to take turns in firing their energy blasters at us. Once again, we found ourselves being driven deeper into Trinilon space, all the while being toyed with. Obviously, as I stated earlier, this tactic was not unexpected, but that did not prevent it from being infuriating. These Taj'ik ships possessed some kind of intermittent phase technology, which enabled them to 'blink' in and out of sight. No matter how accurately we returned fire, the Taj'ik would vanish milliseconds before they could be hit, only to reappear elsewhere and let fly with their weapons._

_After about two hours of this, they seemed to become bored of us and disappeared. Unfortunately, this turned out to be another ploy, for they suddenly reappeared again after about three quarters of an hour. Their tactics were much the same as some predatory animals employ against their prey. The Taj'ik were goading us into expending more energy, more firepower, making us go constantly on the defensive, galling us by not standing and engaging in a conventional battle. Ultimately, the aim was to wear us down, to exhaust us and therefore push us into making errors, which would enable them to come in for a final, winning blow._

_At first, we stood up fairly well to the Taj'ik. But then the frustration and exhaustion started to creep in as the hours wore on and the stop-start confrontation continued. We tried different tactics, tried to work on finding a way to predict where the ships would reappear after phasing, but to no avail. But then, just as we were beginning to think of resorting to desperate tactics, Lieutenant Truman and Ensign Dupin finally pinpointed a way of fighting back. The actual technicalities of their discoveries and solutions will no doubt be thoroughly explained in their respective logs, but in a simpler manner, they described the effect of a Taj'ik ship when it had phased as being similar to swimming underwater, only instead of water being distorted and displaced, it was the fabric of space._

_If you watch a swimmer in slow motion coming up to break the surface of the water, there is a small volume of water being pushed up ahead of their body before they actually break through, just like you displace water when you first dive in. The effect is much the same when a Taj'ik vessel enters and exits its phase, except this time there is a small disturbance as the ship enters and moves through subspace. Truman and Dupin managed to work out a way of tracking the ships and therefore a way of preventing them from re-entering normal space. This involved making some adjustments to the primary deflector so that when activated, it would basically push on the displaced space and prevent the Taj'ik ship from emerging, at least temporarily. The main problem was that we would only be able to deal with one ship at a time this way._

_But, it worked. This lifted the atmosphere on the Bridge a little and we worked to capitalise on the moment of surprise. And then, we got a second break that came as a complete surprise but perfectly timed. A new starship appeared on the scene, dropping out of some form of coaxial warp…_

"Taj'ik vessels, this is Muir Elisk of the Jandrhys. The starship known as _Genesis Millennia_ is under our protection as of this moment. You will immediately cease your hostilities towards them." The confident voice of the as yet unseen Muir Elisk radiated through the Bridge of the _Genesis Millennia_, further lifting the spirits of the weary crew. A moment later, they heard the grouchy tones of a Taj'ik.

"Muir Elisk. This is an affair that does not concern the Jandrhys."

"The _Genesis Millennia_ and her crew are considered allies of the Jandrhys. Under the Jandrha-Trinilon treaty, they come under our jurisdiction."

"They violated Taj'ik laws."

"Knowing the Taj'ik as we do, that is perhaps doubtful," Muir Elisk answered.

"And knowing the arrogance of the Jandrhys…" the Taj'ik began, but Elisk cut him off.

"Regardless, even a dolt like you should know that Trinilon law takes precedence over the laws of any individual member society," she said. "In this case, the law sides with us. If you wish, you may take your grievances to the Trinilon Parliament and have them contact the Jandrhys government over the matter. Now, stand down." There was a long pause and then the Taj'ik vessel engaged its warp engines and disappeared. The second vessel, which was still being held by the Federation ship, reappeared after the deflector was disengaged and quickly followed suit.

"The Jandrhys ship is hailing us directly, Sir," Tay said.

"Put them on," Hurst replied. A moment later, Muir Elisk appeared, seated serenely in a central chair on the bridge of her ship. Like the previous Jandrhys that Hurst and Dupin had encountered, she had red hair and four arms and was not unattractive despite being attired in the uniform of the Jandrhys fleet.

"Captain Hurst?" she enquired, with what seemed to be an almost disappointed air, as she surveyed the dishevelled man before her.

"Yes, I am," Hurst replied. "Thank you for your timely arrival, Muir Elisk."

"It was not a problem," she replied. "We happened to pick up your battle with the Taj'ik on our sensors." She cast her eyes around what else she could see of the Bridge. "You would appear to need to make repairs and have your crew rest," she said.

"We'll manage, Muir," Hurst replied. "If it is possible for you to escort us out of Taj'ik space…"

"I can do better than that, Captain," Elisk said. "As you are noted as being _Yasimi_, I am extending an invitation on behalf of the Jandrhys government for you to return with us to our homeworld and enjoy our hospitality and help." Hurst hesitated. They had lost time messing around with the Taj'ik and visiting Jandrha would take them out of their way, yet there was no denying that everyone needed a break. He also remembered the Jandrhys pride in their hospitality, and suspected that to refuse would be to insult more than just Muir Elisk.

"Very well. I accept your invitation on behalf of my crew," he said. Muir Elisk's face softened into a pleased smile.

"Excellent," she said.

_That brings us up to our current status. With the slipstream drive still not being operational – Lieutenant Truman is currently working on it - we are travelling at maximum warp, accompanied by the Jandrhys. The journey is still some hours at the speed we are doing, but nobody seems to mind. There are repairs to do, although some will have to wait until we arrive at Jandrha. For me, I have ongoing work – there are the sensor and tactical logs to review and I wish to study the Taj'ik's phasing technology and perhaps collaborate with Lieutenant Truman on how to perfect a response to it. Although the shore leave at Jandrha will be appreciated, I have the distinct feeling that it will be a too brief high point. We are not out of the woods, yet. End log. _

* * *

As Lieutenant Beckett sat in his office putting the finishing touches to his log, Captain Hurst was about to commence another battle, this time in his ready room. 

"If you want to say 'I told you so', I'm not interested," he said, as the doors shut behind himself and Commander D'Zira.

"I had no intention of doing so," she replied. "However, the fact that you anticipated I was going to make such a comment leads me to believe that perhaps you doubt yourself."

"Is that an opinion formed with or without poking around inside my mind?"

"Without," D'Zira replied, neutrally.

"Good," Hurst said, tersely. D'Zira somehow managed to sigh resignedly without actually doing so.

"I would not 'poke around' anybody's mind without reason, Captain, least of all yours."

"That's not the impression I get."

"I apologise if I have come across in that manner," D'Zira replied. Hurst nodded slightly as he folded his arms and perched himself on the edge of his desk.

"Maybe we'll discuss it later," he said. "First we'll deal with the present. What did you want to talk about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes Captain. I wish to point out that you've more or less permanently been on the Bridge for three days. You have not rested and have barely eaten since we first encountered difficulties."

"That's nice of you to notice, Commander."

"I believe that it's in my job description to notice," she deadpanned. Hurst was unable to suppress a slight lopsided grin.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine," he said, even as he unconsciously rubbed a temple. D'Zira took a step closer.

"Captain, I do not share that sentiment," she said. "You are obviously fatigued."

"Everybody is."

"Everybody else has taken a break," D'Zira replied. "We are en route to Jandrha. You should take the opportunity to rest."

"I can rest when we arrive at our destination. In case you were too busy concerning yourself with me to see, I have a damaged ship to manage," Hurst retorted.

"That is why you have a second in command," D'Zira said. "I can continue to oversee the crew on regrouping and doing what repairs we can for the moment."

"I'd really rather be making myself useful instead of taking a nap. I can get Doctor Davies to give me a shot of something."

"That is highly unlikely, Sir," D'Zira replied. "Regulations are strict about the use of narco inhibitors. No more than one dose to sustain twenty six hours without sleep; after which time recipient is expected to sleep for at least eight hours. It has been approximately twenty eight hours and thirty five minutes since you requested a narco inhibitor from Doctor Davies, in addition to the previous hours you went without sleep beforehand. I doubt that he will supply you with another medication at this point in time." Hurst stared back at his first officer, more than a little peeved that he hadn't managed to brush her off.

He'd been a captain for almost four years now and in that time had had three first officers. The first had been inherited from the previous captain of Hurst's first command and was a dutiful man in his early forties who, in turn, had assumed captaincy of the ship when Hurst had been assigned the _Genesis Millennia_. Next had been Rick Wheeler, his long-time friend and his own choice once it had been confirmed that they had both been accepted onto the Millennium Mission. Then fate intervened and gave him Ellenabi D'Zira. They had been stuck with each other for about three months now and it just didn't seem to be working. Despite the early tentative steps they had taken, nothing had come of it and currently the only bridge between them was that of the ship. Unlike himself, she had not been a career command officer. She was new to the executive officer position. He'd been a first officer himself, of course, and had given her advice and made it clear what he expected from her and told her how he felt that she could improve.

The thought that they had a further eighteen months together depressed him slightly.

He wanted to like her. He really did. It wasn't as if her dual heritage had literally given her two heads or something. He simply couldn't see in her what her previous commanding officer had seen, a realisation that didn't sit comfortably with him since Captain Waterford was a highly respected man, both within Starfleet and beyond. But even the best could make mistakes. He accepted that she worked hard. So far, there had never been a missed report or late meeting. What annoyed him was the way she seemed to pick things from his mind, things that only seemed like passing thoughts to him. She had also developed the habit of questioning him over almost everything. Part of him was convinced that she just liked argument for argument's sake. Perhaps it was a trait inherited from her politician father. Whatever, it infuriated him immensely. He wanted to get on with things; she wanted to be finicky. Like now, for instance.

"These are hardly normal circumstances," he said.

"Under normal circumstances, one would not usually want to take medication to prevent one from sleeping," she replied mildly, apparently undaunted by the stony look he was giving her.

"Do you have an answer for everything, Commander?"

"Is the real issue here the fact that you cannot put faith in me to manage the crew in a situation other than normal, Captain?" Although the question was a barbed one, it was asked politely and therefore didn't give Hurst any reason to reply as snappishly as he might have wished to. He did what he could to push aside the cloud of fatigue that was floating in his mind in order to best phrase a reply. His first instinct had been to say, "No, of course I can." However, that wasn't true and they both knew it. So it was that his answer was simple.

"No, I can't." He had wanted to say something more eloquent, but the words just popped out. For her part, D'Zira did not look particularly upset. In fact, her reaction was a slight nod of the head, as if Hurst had just confirmed what she already felt.

"Well then," she said, after the revelation had hung in the air for a few moments. "This would be the ideal opportunity to prove myself, wouldn't it, Sir? If it would make you feel any better, you could stay here in your ready room and therefore rest and keep an eye on me at the same time." She indicated the frontage of Hurst's office, through which one could look over the Bridge, but not vice versa. Despite the mood of the room, Hurst found himself breaking into another reluctant smile.

"Very astute," he told her.

"Perhaps there is hope for me yet," she replied, dryly. Hurst stepped towards her so that they were almost boot-to-boot.

"I honestly would be much happier to look after my own ship in this instance," he said to her. She did not reply; rather she simply looked back at him, an oblique eyebrow very slightly raised. Even for a half Vulcan, D'Zira was short, being a little over five foot four. Bare footed, she'd probably just about graze the top of Hurst's shoulders. Booted, she was still a good half a head smaller than him. Yet something had appeared in her steady gaze that made him feel as if the height difference were two feet the opposite way.

"However, a small break would not do any harm," he amended. Perhaps it was wrong that he had allowed her to, in essence, stare him down. Nevertheless, Hurst knew that his first officer was essentially in the right and he'd already allowed that she'd played him well. Still, he didn't allow any outward sign of being chastised as he turned away from her and sat down on the couch that was nestled between his desk and the facade of the ready room.

"I will have a short nap," he said, removing his jacket. "In the meantime, Commander, you know what to do."

"Understood, Sir," replied D'Zira, the corners of her mouth curling upward slightly. She moved towards the door, pausing to look at him as if to make sure that he was going to stay put. Obediently, Hurst put his feet up and lay back on the couch. Apparently satisfied, D'Zira finally left him alone. Hurst let out a long sigh. Give her an hour or so in charge to allow her to celebrate the victory and then he could have his ship back. He noted that his eyelids felt heavy, and wished that he hadn't lain down. Maybe that had been part of D'Zira's plan too. Maybe it was all some telepathic manipulation trick of hers. Maybe…

He was quite annoyed to wake up and discover that he'd slept for over seven hours straight.


	12. The League of Trinilon Part Two

Jandrha was the fourth planet of a binary system consisting of two small yellow suns. In addition to their native planet, within their own solar system the Jandrhys had colonised their moon plus two planetary neighbours. Outside of the influence of their twin suns, the Jandrhys also held claim to a small clutch of colonies. Their intergalactic territory might have spread further if it had not been for the growing League of Trinilon, but for the majority of Jandrhys, the galactic political scene was of little concern to them and their everyday lives, as was the case with most civilizations that had been travelling the stars for several centuries.

The Jandrhys were proud of their matriarchal traditions and although their male population were not as completely subservient as they once were, some outsiders would say that there was still a long way to go before there were equal rights on Jandrha. But, both men and women shared the same Jandrhys pride in hospitality and generally made charming hosts to those whom they considered a friend, be they male, female or otherwise.

So it was that when the USS _Genesis Millennia_ docked at the large space station in orbit of Jandrha, her crew were warmly welcomed. After the arrangements had been made concerning supplies and repairs, the Jandrhys openly invited the Starfleet officers to make use of the many attractions on the planet during their shore leave. The first batch of crew beamed down eagerly, glad to be away from the ship for a while, especially after the uncomfortable time they had just been through. Up on the ship, Lieutenant Truman had been perfectly happy to remain in Engineering to carry out and organise repairs. After a few hours, the only other senior officers onboard were the captain and first officer, who were on the bridge.

"Right, I think that's everything," Hurst said, signing off from his console. He rose from his chair and went over to where D'Zira was studying something at Ops.

"Ready to abandon ship?" he asked her. She stopped her work and looked at him.

"Actually, sir, I wish to remain here," she told him.

"What for?"

"I feel that it would be best for a senior member of staff to remain here on the bridge," she said.

"There's no risk to the ship whilst we are docked here," Hurst said.

"After the past few days, Captain, I wouldn't be certain of anything," D'Zira replied. Hurst shook his head and folded his hands on the console.

"If this is to do with our recent conversation…you've made your point. There is nothing to prove to anyone whilst we're berthed at a space station."

"That is not my intention," she replied. "Like Lieutenant Truman, I simply feel that my time would be better spent here."

"Michael would probably set up home in Engineering if he could," Hurst replied, dismissively. "You were keen enough to tell me to take a break; now perhaps is the time to take your own advice."

"I've fully rested, sir," answered D'Zira. Hurst felt his patience beginning to ebb.

"Commander, I don't wish to order you off the bridge, but…" he gave a tight smile, "I would appreciate it if somebody could accompany me to a gathering which will include some Jandrhys officials and I believe that you're the most suitable person available." If Hurst had known his second in command a little better, he might have questioned her reticence or picked up on the fact that her stress levels skyrocketed at his suggestion. As it was, he merely believed that she was being stubborn for no good reason and this annoyed him further. It was petty, but it felt nice for him to assert his authority on her.

"As you wish, Captain," she said, after a pause.

"Okay. Let's go," he said, briskly. Very reluctantly, she followed him out.

D'Zira was not the only unwilling visitor to Jandhra. Despite seeing plenty of suggestions as to how to spend her time, Quella was not enthused. This planet was such a backwater. She happened upon Tay Barlis walking along a path, carrying a small bag.

"Hello, Quella. Have you seen the plunge pools? They're even better than the ones on Bajor," he said, enthusiastically. "Some of us are going swimming. Do you want to come?"

"No, thank you," Quella replied, turning her nose up at the thought.

"Ever tried?" Tay asked.

"No, I haven't. What's fun about playing with water?"

"Oh, lots of things. I thought you liked trying new stuff?"

"Only good new stuff," Quella said.

"Well, it's your loss," Tay replied, cheerfully. "Have fun." He disappeared off to find the other swimmers. Quella shrugged and went to find something to do that could be classified as 'fun' in her mind. If only she still had her omnipotent powers. Then she could have some fun. Perhaps she would make the ship disappear from orbit. She'd love to see the look on Captain Hurst's face if that happened. Make him feel as stranded as she did. Or perhaps she would give Lieutenant Truman a personality transplant. No, even better, make him resign his Starfleet commission and suggest that she take his place in Engineering. And as for Aimee Dupin…

Quella looked around her and scrunched up her face slightly, somehow not finding much joy in plotting would-be shenanigans on the Starfleet officers whom she had come to share her life with. On the positive side, it was a change from the ship. And since everyone was either on the ship or finding primitive forms of amusement here, then she may as well take the opportunity to escape. Or, at least pretend that she was escaping. Even if she 'accidentally' misplaced her communicator, they'd eventually track her down via a genetic lock. Silly primates – they felt the need to have to control everything when really much of the universe was beyond their grasp, despite what they liked to think. She made her way along another path that disappeared into some woodland, gradually leaving behind the sounds of her crewmates. Like all Q, she was incessantly curious, and despite her reservations about this planet, the old feelings that she got from exploring places by herself gradually crept back into her mind. The excitement was tempered by a nagging notion that it wasn't quite the same game as a human. She couldn't turn herself into one of those large, brightly coloured insects on that bush over there and try seeing life through their eyes. She couldn't go back to the beginnings of Jandrhys civilisation and watch them develop into the people they were today. But what she could do was get herself into trouble, as she realised when something rustled in the trees above and milliseconds later wrapped itself around her neck.

_hello how are you doing did you know that this water is just perfect _not again _freakish aliens must contact mother later birthday silly well they said two large fish fillets and a selection of fresh vegetables they said rain later bet he'd be good fun _go away_ go away would rather be at the coast she's an ugly little pointy eared thing obvious he doesn't like her I have far too much work to do a major deadline Trinilon expansion they always leave a mess how rude _too many thoughts_ will have a word with the caterers later _push them away_ they dump this on me wish I had taken that job never realised how lovely thought you should know ignoring me commander…_

"Commander." The low but firm voice brought D'Zira back into reality. She looked at Hurst.

"I'm sorry Captain. My mind drifted," she said. The two of them were in the lobby area of a Jandrha governmental building along with several Jandrhys who were milling about. They were waiting to be seated for a meal, over which their meeting with the Jandrhys would take place.

"Well, make sure you stay focused during the meal," Hurst said.

"Captain Hurst!" trilled a voice from behind them. They turned to see a Jandrhys woman coming towards them, a beaming smile on her face.

"Muir Losk," Hurst acknowledged. "This is a surprise."

"A pleasant one, I hope," she said.

"Of course," he replied. Muir Losk looked at D'Zira and then back to Hurst.

"Another woman to look after you?" she teased.

"This is my second-in-command, Ellenabi D'Zira," Hurst said. Losk turned her smile to D'Zira.

"Why," she said, "I don't remember him ever mentioning you during the visit to our space station."

"You'll be pleased to know that the Captain only had good things to say about yourself," D'Zira replied. Losk laughed.

"I'm glad that I made such a positive impression of both myself and hopefully the Jandrhys," she said.

"Your people have been as welcoming and helpful as you were, Muir," Hurst told her. Losk looked at him with an air of mock disapproval.

"I thought that we'd worked out the formalities, Jordan," she said. Before Hurst could reply, a small gong sounded. Their host, Minister Lenesk, came over to them.

"Captain Hurst, Commander D'Zira. Our meal is ready, if you would accompany me into the dining suite."

"Thank you," Hurst said. Muir Losk smiled at D'Zira.

"I'm looking forward to hearing about your recent travels," she said, as they walked through to the next room.

"I'm sure that you are," replied D'Zira, as coolly Vulcan as she ever got. Losk kept smiling, but the pair of curled antennae on her head moved in what D'Zira could tell was meant to be a slightly threatening gesture.

Whatever had coiled around Quella's neck began to squeeze tighter. Although her human survival instincts had kicked in and had her thrashing around gasping for breath, the Q in her seemed to be observing with an almost amused detachment_. So, this is asphyxiation. How odd that the legs kick out when it is obvious that it will do no good at all and only wastes energy. Amazing how those little insignificant oxygen molecules are suddenly so precious. Amusing how the heart seems to ring in the ears so that you can hear those last moments of your measly little existence ticking down…  
_"Awshurrup," Quella managed to gasp as she clawed at the thing around her neck, which appeared to be some kind of animal.  
"Mind over matter, my dear." She wasn't entirely sure where the voice came from, whether it was herself or her imagination or even the snake-thing that was slowly strangling her. Nevertheless, despite the ongoing threat to her life, she found herself remembering one of the very first things that she had been taught when she came into existence. Suddenly, she felt calm. _There is nothing around my neck. I only think there is. It is my mind playing a trick. The snake is a metaphor for how I feel, that is all. It isn't really there. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die…  
_"I'm not going to die." Quella coughed and spluttered the words as she knelt on the ground, gratefully sucking air into her starved lungs. She didn't even notice at first that she was doing it. Then, slowly, she recovered her wits and shakily got to her feet. There seemed to be no sign of the snake or whatever it was. She turned back to face the direction that she had been going in and jumped in surprise. There before her, stood a man. He was not Jandrhys; rather, he looked like a human of around thirty. He had jet-black hair, which was slightly spiked and narrow grey eyes, which peered carefully at Quella.  
"Yes," he said. "I know exactly who you are now. Good grief. They're allowing whippersnappers to breed…?" He trailed off and smiled. Quella did not return the gesture.  
"Who are you?" she asked. The man put an arm around her shoulders.  
"Let's just say that we're cousins," he said. Quella slipped out of his embrace, not liking the man one bit.  
"Are you responsible for that…that thing that tried to throttle me?"  
"Yes and no."  
"What sort of an answer is that?"  
"Now, you should know better than to ask silly questions," the man said. "If you must know, it was a test, of sorts."  
"A test?" Quella looked as if she were about to strangle him herself. "Couldn't you have done something a little less dramatic?"  
"Perhaps," he replied. "But for someone like you, it's best to go straight for the kill – pardon the pun – rather than play stupid little games." Quella shook her head and held out her hands as if to fend off an attacker.  
"Look," she said. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested. I've got places to see and people to meet, so…" She took a couple of steps back, not taking her eyes off the man, and then turned and ran as fast as she could back along the path towards where she knew there was civilization.

"So men are allowed to vote but not to serve in government or councils? That seems a bit unfair to me."

"To you, a man, understandably. To us, the system is perfectly acceptable. Why change something that has worked well for centuries?" Minister Lenesk popped another forkful of food into her mouth as she finished her sentence.

"Any situation is acceptable to a person if it is something that suits them," Hurst replied. "I can't believe that there aren't men in your society who are unhappy at not being represented in an active political role."

"Well, of course," Lenesk said. "Does everybody agree on everything within your own society?"

"Certainly not," Hurst answered. "But everybody has a voice with which to speak."

"We are not backward barbarians, Captain Hurst," Lenesk said, reproachfully.

"His people practice absolute equality, Minister," Muir Losk spoke up from her place seated between Hurst and D'Zira. "He is also a man. It is hardly his fault that he can't understand the intricacies of the Jandrhys way of life." She smiled sweetly at Hurst to let him know that she didn't really mean her words to be as demeaning as they sounded, directed at the minister. Lenesk seemed to accept the argument, for she gave a small nod of her head.

"We know that men have their particular uses outside of the obvious reproduction purposes and they are encouraged to pursue those careers that suit them. But a man – a Jandrhys man – is simply not cut out for a life in politics," she said.

"In the distant past, my home world was a matriarchal society not dissimilar to yours," D'Zira said. "It was once also thought that a man could know nothing of what it took to deal in many areas such as politics. Once men had the opportunity to prove themselves, it was gradually accepted that they were as capable as women." There was a murmur of doubtful conversation around the table.

"What works on your planet isn't necessarily going to work here," Lenesk replied, glibly. Muir Losk turned to D'Zira as the other Jandrhys resumed chatter amongst themselves.

"How interesting, to learn that you possess matriarchal genes," she said, her cordial tone laced with challenge.

"Not entirely," D'Zira replied, neutrally.

"Don't you like to compare and contrast societies?" Losk asked, not grasping the proper meaning of D'Zira's answer

"I have been doing so most of my life," D'Zira said. The antennae on Losk's head uncurled themselves slightly and once again moved in the faintly threatening manner. D'Zira's impulse was to grab hold of the wiry feelers and give them a good yank. She reasoned that it would be an equitable response to the small jibes Muir Losk had been making towards her since they had met. But, they were not schoolgirls in a playground, and so D'Zira's hands remained grasping her cutlery. The sooner this excursion was over, the better, as far as the commander was concerned. She felt crowded and uncomfortable and all she really wanted to do was to return to the ship, go to her quarters, pull the blankets over her head and block the universe out for a few hours.

"What Commander D'Zira means, Amallia, is that she is of mixed parentage," said Hurst, unhelpfully.

"Oh," said Losk, with somewhat exaggerated surprise as she looked back at D'Zira. "Only a half breed. The good genes are on your mother's side, I hope?"

"Define 'good genes'," D'Zira answered, her Vulcan indifference slipping for the first time since arriving on Jandrha. Losk smirked slightly.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," she said, in that annoying tone of voice which was just enough to get under D'Zira's skin, but was not overtly rude. As it was, the Vulcan-Betazoid's green eyes hardened considerably.

"Who are you, Muir, to pass judgement on whether my parentage makes me any less of a person or not?" The words were spoken with an evenness that was at complete odds with the look in D'Zira's eyes, and it was very obvious to Losk that she had just overstepped onto dangerous ground. Her expression turned to one of mild distress.

"Please accept my apologies, Commander. I meant no offence," she said, contritely. D'Zira didn't buy it for a moment, but accepted Losk's words with a nod of her head, not wishing to aggravate the situation further.

Quella had run blindly along the path. In her haste, she had turned down the wrong route that led back to the main complex of the leisure resort she and some of the others had beamed down to. As she had run around a bend, the mysterious man appeared in front of her again, seemingly stepping out of nowhere. Quella shrieked and back-pedalled. In doing so, she tripped and stumbled onto the steep slope that ran alongside one side of the path she was on. Unable to stop herself from tumbling downwards, she bounced off the edge of the cliff and screamed as she plummeted towards what felt like oblivion…

Moments later, she hit water. For a split second, she felt calmness as she plunged into the depths and wondered if she was indeed, dead. However, that all disappeared when she popped back up to the surface, desperately snatching a lungful of air before sinking back under again. She waved her arms and legs around, wondering why she wasn't staying afloat. She had seen plenty of species swimming. She was kicking her legs and moving her arms as other humanoids had done, and yet it wasn't working. _So, this is drowning_, the superior sounding inner voice said. _Some human you're turning out to be, on the verge of death twice in one day. Mind over matter? Go on, then. Pretend that you're not drowning. Float out of the water like an Indris aqua sprite_. Quella tried the same trick that she had pulled earlier.

She sank deeper.

She kicked out again and managed to break the surface once more, spluttering and getting water up her nose as she tried to get some air. _Ha_, said her Q side. _Maybe that snake was a fluke. Maybe that man wanted to make you think that you had made it disappear. Now you're going to die a completely meaningless death and nobody's going to care. Where are any members of the Continuum? Where are your shipmates? See, not even those self-righteous Starfleet idiots want to save you. You're worthless. You were a worthless Q and you're going to die an even more worthless human…_

Lieutenants Beckett, Naron and Tennison were still seated at the same bar they had arrived at earlier, happily enjoying free samples of Jandrha's finest beverages. The bartender had taken a liking to the trio, particularly Naron, who being a joined Trill, had an unusual bartering tool.

"I'm not your ordinary man. Being a joined species means that I've also been a woman," Naron had told her.

"Oh, really?" she replied, sounding sceptical, but obviously holding in a smile.

"Yes, six times. In fact, my previous two hosts were both women. Between them, I lived as a woman for one hundred and seventeen years. I've only been in this body for a mere two years." He grinned. "I still find myself heading for the wrong bathroom sometimes."

"Well, that's just silly, isn't it?" the bartender said, smiling.

"You can't really blame him. After all, Jez is just a pretty face," Tennison teased. She gently prodded his belly. "The real brains lie with the worm in there." She suddenly yanked her hand away as the symbiont pushed itself against the abdominal wall of its host, causing a distension of the area.

"That's gross."

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction," Naron replied serenely, as the symbiont returned to its usual resting position.

"Spoken like a true physicist," Beckett said. With the bartender won over, the three of them had happily stayed put, exchanging stories in between drinks. That was until a piercing scream from somewhere to their left interrupted things. They sprang to their feet, Naron offering a hasty apology to the bartender, before following his companions out towards where the commotion seemed to originate from. They reached one of the pools, which had a small, sandy beach at their end, and sheer cliffs at the other. A small crowd was beginning to gather, eyes glued to where two people were splashing around.

"What's going on?" Beckett asked an ensign.

"I'm not sure, Sir," the ensign replied. "Somebody appeared to fall from the cliffs, but Ensign Tay was still swimming nearby and is helping them out." Beckett shaded his eyes in order to get a better look at the figures in the pool and shook his head.

"They're both in trouble," he said, taking charge of the situation. He turned to Tennison. "Karen, see if you can get hold of a boat or something. Jez, get hold of the captain or Commander D'Zira and keep an eye on this crowd. I'll swim out." He stripped off his outer layer of clothing, not noticing the appreciative glances from the small number of young Jandrhys women on the scene. They watched intently as he splashed into the water and quickly swam across the pool with a powerful stroke. A couple of older Jandrhys helped Tennison locate a water craft, and they followed Beckett out to where Tay and Quella were. By this time, Quella was close to unconsciousness, and Beckett had little difficulty in separating her from Tay, who was shaken but not in serious danger.

After pulling Quella into the boat, the group made its way back to shore, by which time D'Zira had arrived, glad to escape the company of Muir Losk. The young Jandrhys women looked at Beckett with undisguised adoration as he helped D'Zira get Quella and Tay beamed up to sickbay. There was then some competition to present the lieutenant with a towel. At almost six foot two, Beckett was easily the tallest man most Jandrhys had seen, and certainly the most muscular. With Quella and Tay safe, he allowed himself to enjoy some of the attention, flashing his best grin and showing off a little for them. Tennison and Naron watched from a short distance away.

"Pah," Tennison snorted, referring to the Jandrhys girls. "They're not seeing anything that I haven't seen before." Naron sensed a nugget of gossip.

"You two…?"

"Oh, just for a couple of months at the Academy," Tennison said. "We tried, but we don't work as anything more than friends."

"I must say I'm surprised," Naron said. "You seem suited." Tennison shrugged.

"You're not the first to say that."

"Well, you said you tried at the Academy," said Naron. "Maybe now some time has passed, you could give it another go." Tennison's cheeks flushed a little. Naron picked up on it.

"You have tried," he said, in a voice that was part flat statement, part amused and part plain nosey. He couldn't resist adding, "Recently?" Tennison reddened further. Naron grinned, but his expression turned to one of mild pain as Tennison stepped firmly on his foot.

"If you mention this conversation to anybody, even Ewan, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your lives," she said, although she sounded more cross than genuinely threatening. The Trill wasn't taking any chances though, and smiled angelically.

"Don't worry, I'll file it away with all the hundreds of other things I'm never supposed to tell anyone," he said. He looked down. "Can you get off my foot now? Please? I can't feel my toes."

A little later, Hurst had finished the bulk of his official engagements. After contacting the ship to get an update on the welfare of Quella and Tay, the captain agreed to take a walk with Muir Losk, who was very interested in their skirmish with the Taj'ik, and echoed Muir Elisk's views on the telepathic race.

"Sasine knows quite a bit about the Trinilon outer members," Losk said, referring to Elisk. "More than I do, since she's on active patrol and I'm managing my station. If you like, I can arrange for her to chat to you or your strategic officer, if you have one."

"I do," Hurst said. "He'd be interested in any extra information, if it's not too much trouble. I know what it's like to run a ship, after all."

"It's no trouble at all," she smiled. "Sasine happens to be a friend of mine, so it will be a personal favour."

"You have a good choice in friends," Hurst said. "We were lucky that Muir Elisk turned up when she did."

"The Taj'ik may not be the most advanced people, but they do have the most tiresome yet effective tactics," Losk agreed. "I am glad that you happened on my space station beforehand, else there would have been little we could have done, under the laws of the Jandrha-Trinilon treaty." Her usual sunny disposition faded a little. "Not that we'll have a choice soon." Hurst looked at her, curious.

"What do you mean?" Losk brightened and patted him affectionately on the arm.

"It's nothing that need concern you, traveller," she said. "I'm sure that you've heard more than enough Jandrhys politics and things for one day for someone just passing through. Come, one of my favourite beverage shops is not too far away. They do the most wonderful coffees." Hurst felt as if he were not left with much choice as Losk set a brisk pace in the direction of the café. When they reached their destination, she ordered for both of them.

"Well?" she asked, as a steaming mug was set down in front of each of them. Hurst took a cautious sip.

"Not bad," he said. It wasn't the most potent coffee he'd ever had, but it still had a rich, crisp edge.

"Not bad?" The Muir looked a little disappointed. "Well, it's a pity that I won't get the chance to compare it with something similar from your world." She clasped one pair of hands around her own mug, whilst the other pair folded themselves neatly on the table. "I think that you know more about the Jandrhys than I do about your society. You've talked a little about the Federation that your world belongs to, but nothing specific about where you actually come from," she said.

"I'm not really the best person to ask," Hurst replied. "I've spent more of my life away from Earth than on it."

"Oh, you're an educated man. I'm sure you can tell me something," Losk said. "History, cultures, geography…don't tell me that just because you weren't living on your home world meant that you remained ignorant of those topics."

"No," Hurst admitted. "I suppose what I meant…"

"_D'Zira to Hurst_." Hurst looked apologetically at Losk before returning the hail.

"Yes, Commander?"

"_The Jandrhys government requests your presence urgently, Captain_," D'Zira replied.

"Did they say why?"

"_They simply said that it was a matter that they wished to discuss with you_."

"Okay. Stand by to beam me…" he looked at Losk. "Stand by to beam me and Muir Losk over to the government complex."

"_Aye, Sir_." After exiting the café, Hurst confirmed the order to transport and a moment later, he and Losk were standing in the foyer of said complex. They were greeted by a harried looking Jandrhys man.

"This way, Captain," he said. He looked at Losk. "I'm afraid that…"

"I'm Muir Amallia Losk," the Jandrhys woman said, drawing herself upwards so that she seemed to tower over the man and at the same time fishing out some form of holographic identification to show him.

"Follow me," the man said, meekly. They followed him through the building to a small chamber. Inside was a middle aged woman, a senior official, who eyed Losk warily.

"This matter does not concern you, Muir."

"I would rather she stay, ma'am. Muir Losk has been acting as my liaison on your planet," Hurst said. It wasn't entirely true, but if there was some sort of fuss about to be made, he knew that he had some backup in Losk.

"Very well," the older woman said, unenthusiastically. "I am Deline Nuask, the head of the Jandrhys Diplomatic Department. We have received correspondence from the Trinilon Parliament regarding a recent incident involving the Taj'ik and your vessel. I understand that one of our own fleet intervened under the laws of the Jandrha-Trinilon treaty and then escorted you here. Correct?"

"Yes, it is, ma'am," Hurst replied.

"I also understand that Muir Elisk informed the Taj'ik to take the issue up with the Trinilon Parliament if they felt injustice," Nuask said. "It seems that they took her advice."

"I see," said Hurst. "I can explain…" Nuask shook her head.

"The Parliament has disregarded the Taj'ik complaint. However, it would appear that their interest is piqued in you and your vessel for other reasons, including a skirmish with another member, the Nephellan. It is their wish for you to appear before the Parliament to answer a few questions."

"We are on a tight schedule," Hurst said.

"It is not an idle request, Captain," replied Nuask.

"But the laws pertaining to…" Losk began, but Nuask interrupted her.

"The government feels that given certain factors, it would be best to agree to the Trinilon demands," she said. Losk scowled slightly.

"We wouldn't be disregarding our laws if it were a Jandrhys ship," she said.

"Completely irrelevant," Nuask replied. "The League has its own rights within the treaty. And a Jandrhys ship would come under a completely different set of rules."

"It's the principle that counts," Losk fired back. "What's happened to the famed Jandrhys pride in looking after their visitors?"

"Amallia." Hurst laid a gentle hand on one of her arms to silence her. He looked at Nuask. "Would the repercussions be so great if we refuse to go?"

"Obviously you have free will – you are guests in this domain. However, given the nature of the balance of power between Jandrha and the League, it would be very much preferable to our government if you would show willing," she said.

"I would like to consult my senior officers before arriving at a decision," Hurst said. Nuask studied him for a moment.

"Very well. You have two hours," she said. Losk stepped forwards.

"If Captain Hurst decides to proceed with this nonsense, I would like to travel with him as a representative of Jandrha," she said. Hurst looked at her, surprised.

"You don't have to," he said.

"I insist," she replied. "I know you better than any other Jandrhys and also am familiar with many Trinilon races and regulations. I am therefore best placed to act as a mediator, should the need arise. Muir-ju Kask is perfectly able to maintain my space station for a slightly extended period of time."

"I shall consider it," Nuask said. "Two hours, the same as Captain Hurst has to decide. We shall reconvene then."

Two hours had been more than enough time for the senior officers of the _Genesis Millennia_ to decide that it would be prudent to travel to the Trinilon Parliament and answer whatever questions they had. As well as showing good grace towards the Jandrhys, it was considered that they could perhaps convince the Parliament that they really were just explorers and meant no harm. There was also the curiosity of finding out how another extensive amalgamation of planets compared to the Federation. Lieutenant Truman and his engineering team would be finished with repairs, including the slipstream drive, by the morning so it would be a thankfully short journey into the heart of Trinilon space. They would also be carrying three extra passengers; Muir Losk, her assistant, Gerume and another female, a diplomatic attaché named Cerisi Erusk. Losk had changed from her plain clothes into her steel blue uniform.

"I'm on official business as a Muir of the Jandrhys space fleet, out and about, like you are for your Starfleet," she explained to Hurst as he escorted the party to the bridge to begin a basic familiarisation of the ship before they set off on their journey first thing in the allegorical morning. They stepped off the lift onto the bridge, where the crew were busy going over all the ship's systems.

"Most impressive," Losk said, approvingly. She recognised Ensign Dupin. "How lovely to see you again, Aimee," she smiled.

"Thank you," Dupin replied, almost too nicely. "I hope that you are well?"

"Very much so," Losk replied. She turned to Hurst. "Perhaps if Aimee is not too busy, she can take us to see the rest of the ship, rather than have us take up your time."

"I don't see why not," Hurst replied. Dupin only just managed to prevent her smile turning into a grimace.

"I'd be happy to," she lied, not at all happy to see again the woman who, in Dupin's eyes, had been flirting far too much with the captain the last time they met.

Ironically, D'Zira was the one who hid her displeasure at Losk's presence less well, her mood having progressed into a general grouchiness that she didn't quite manage to mask. It was not until later that the tetchy commander snuck into sickbay to see Doctor Davies.

"So what seems to be the problem?" he asked, configuring a delicate looking scanner that surrounded D'Zira's head as she sat back into an examination chair.

"I've been having trouble closing my mind off to the thoughts of other people," D'Zira replied.

"Even at night?"

"People don't stop thinking even when they are asleep," D'Zira said.

"I would say some people don't start thinking when they're awake," Davies replied. The scanner's monitor beeped, and the doctor examined the readings. "I'm not surprised you're having trouble, Commander. Your psilosynine levels are almost triple what they should be," he said. D'Zira suddenly bowed her head as all the thoughts floating around the ship slammed unbidden into her mind, as they had done often over the past few days. The doctor waited whilst she fought to regain control. She looked up again and Davies couldn't ignore the body language that screamed the frustration of his patient.

"The best treatment for this is a good night's sleep," he said.

"Which I haven't been able to do because of recent events and also because I've not been able to screen out background thoughts," D'Zira replied, irritably.

"A vicious circle," Davies commented. "Stress can also be a contributing factor. Of everybody aboard this ship, you have been under the most pressure."

"And how do you deduce that?"

"You know very well how I've arrived at that conclusion, Miss D'Zira," the doctor chided. "You were completely unprepared for this mission and have had to learn everything in a matter of weeks – days, even – whilst most of us have had months to think about the finer details of our assignment. You were thrown into an unknown crew and into the second most senior position on the ship. It's been said that the life of the first officer can at times be tougher than that of the commanding officer."

"I am coping fine," D'Zira insisted. "I did not have these problems until a few days ago."

"Unless there are abnormal outside influences, it usually takes a longer period of time than 'a few days' for psilosynine levels to become as high as yours are," Davies said, flatly. "Perhaps you haven't allowed yourself to realise how you might actually be handling things."

"I'm a Betazoid," was the short reply.

"Only half. Your other half is Vulcan," Davies replied. "As is the case with most Vulcan hybrids, your Vulcan genes dominate your physiology. Would I be right in saying that some of this lack of sleep has been intentional?"

"I might have relied on that specific trait once or twice recently," D'Zira admitted, grudgingly.

"Which would not have been particularly helpful to your current predicament," Davies pointed out.

"I am quite aware of that, Doctor."

"Good," Davies said, cheerfully. "I'm going to give you a low dose of medication to help ease your immediate discomfort, and also something that will help you sleep. Hopefully a few good nights will be all that is needed to get things back to normal again."

"I hope so too," D'Zira replied. "I really do not wish to spend another night knowing what other members of crew are dreaming about."

"I'm sorry that I'm not telepathic," Davies said, rummaging through a cabinet. He brought a small bottle over to D'Zira.

"Mix two drops of this into a glass of water before you get into bed," he said. "Avoid using telepathy."

"I have been doing so already," D'Zira answered. "I find that it aggravates my condition." Davies nodded.

"And I strongly recommend that you try and make time for some relaxing activities – meditation, reading, a pleasant holodeck scenario. You need to remember to be Ellenabi occasionally, not just Commander D'Zira."

"I'll keep that in mind," D'Zira said. After the doctor had given her a dose of something to combat the high level of psilosynine, she made to get up from the chair, but the doctor stopped her.

"You really should confide in the captain…"

"I think that he has more pressing concerns at the moment," D'Zira interrupted.

"I thought that Betazoids lived for talking about feelings," Davies commented. D'Zira stood up.

"As you said, Doctor, I'm only half Betazoid," she answered. "Now please excuse me, I have things to attend to other than myself." Davies watched as she left sickbay and shook his head.

"You're excused," he said.

Hurst had been disappointed not to have the chance of some proper leave on Jandrha, but shrugged it off as an inevitable downside to being a captain. Instead, he had decided to put the whole Trinilon thing out of his mind for a couple of hours and have a quiet evening. He had gone over to the replicator and had been about to ask the thing to conjure up a nice, juicy steak, when Muir Losk had turned up. He hadn't really wanted company, but on the other hand, he hadn't had a guest in his quarters since Commander Wheeler before the fateful arrival at EDS Two-Five and couldn't deny that it was nice to have the opportunity to dine with somebody. So, he had invited her in and they'd had a pleasant enough meal which Losk enjoyed. She also took a liking to Terran coffee, which they sat drinking afterwards whilst they chatted about their first meeting on Losk's space station.

"I did not say that I hated Jandrhys men," she was saying. "I said that they were not on a par with me. That doesn't mean that I dislike them. Quite the contrary. I love my father and brother as much as I do my mother and sisters."

"Large family?"

"There are four of us, which is average for Jandrhys families. I'm the second eldest." she replied. "How about yourself?"

"Me? I'm an only child," Hurst replied.

"Oh, poor you!" Losk gasped, seeming genuinely horrified. "How cruel of your parents." Hurst raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I used to want a brother when I was a kid, but I don't think I'd call my parents cruel for not providing one," he said. Losk looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Jordan. I spoke without thinking. On Jandrha, it's considered very bad parenting to only have the one child. It's seen as a sign of great selfishness, not to mention all the questions over fertility and whether or not the best genes are being passed on to the next generation." She smiled playfully at him. "Not that there is any question of bad genes in your case."

"I'm sure my parents would be very appreciative of your compliment," Hurst told her. Losk's smile widened.

"So they should," she said. One of her four hands traced the rim of her mug. "Speaking of genes and parents, I managed to insult your commander today as well. I hope that she does not continue to resent my presence too much."

"In all honesty, Amallia, she's not usually so prickly," Hurst assured her. "She'll be fine tomorrow."

"She is an officer," Losk agreed. "Though, if I may make a comment, she seems a rather odd choice for your second in command." Hurst set his mug down on the table.

"I could go into that rather boring story, but it is getting on a bit and if you don't mind, I could do with getting some rest," he said, with an edgy cheeriness that let Losk know the mood had been lost. She stood, as did Hurst.

"I quite agree," she said, pleasantly. "Thank you for an enjoyable evening."

"I shall see you tomorrow on the bridge," Hurst replied. Losk nodded and looked at him intently, the antennae on her head uncurling and moving both up and down and in small circles.

"What are you doing?" Hurst asked, curious. The antennae returned to their usual coiled position.

"I'm checking for something," Losk said, merrily.

"Like what? Germs? Or just signs of life?"

"Probably more of the latter," she replied, stepping towards the door, which opened obediently. Then, with a final, somewhat mischievous smile, she left the bemused captain alone.

Quella was in her quarters, sat in the middle of her bed. She had the covers pulled around her, somehow feeling comforted by the action. The day had been one she'd rather forget. She'd nearly died twice, first with the snake and then in that seemingly bottomless pool. The young Q shuddered. The second encounter had been far worse. Never had she felt more helpless than at that moment. She had all but given into that snide inner voice when Tay showed up to help her. However, she had been too far gone in her panic, and had struggled against the Bajoran, almost drowning them both. She didn't remember Beckett arriving on the scene. The next thing that she had been aware of was being in sickbay. Both Doctor Davies and Commander D'Zira had questioned her about the incident. Quella simply said that she had slipped. She didn't mention the first incident or the strange man. D'Zira didn't seem to pick up on the omissions, which had surprised Quella. As far as she knew, nobody aboard the ship had so far managed to get away without telling the commander the whole story behind a troublesome scenario, something which would occasionally lead to a few grumbles in the quieter corners of the lower decks.

That strange man. Quella shivered again. Tay had been allowed to leave sickbay almost straight away, but she had had to stay put for a while. Left alone, her mind had replayed events, including her conversation with the man. What he wanted with her, Quella had no idea and didn't really want to find out. She had taken comfort in the fact that the ship would be leaving Jandrha within twenty four hours and therefore she would be leaving whoever he was behind. No sooner had the thought passed through her mind, then she heard a soft voice by her ear.

"No, dearest. I'm afraid that you don't escape that easily. I'll leave you for now, but we will meet again." Quella had turned her head in the direction of the voice, but there was no one there. She tried to convince herself that it had been a figment of her imagination but the chill down her spine prevented her from doing so. After being let out of sickbay, she had come straight to her quarters and hadn't moved from there since. Perhaps a good night's sleep was all that was needed. Yes, that was it. Go to sleep and pretend that it never happened and wake up in the morning feeling much, much better.

Muir Losk reclined on a comfy chair in her guest quarters. Her business with Cerisi Erusk had finished for the time being and she had allowed Gerume to have the evening to himself and so she was not going to be disturbed. She would have liked to spend some more time with Captain Hurst, but obviously there was something that he didn't wish to talk about concerning that horrible little half-breed second-in-command of his. That was fine by her. His reticence had told her more than enough. Losk shook her loose red hair back and thought of D'Zira with disdain. She was such a plain looking woman, all prim in her uniform. No wonder Jordan had issues with her. Losk took a sip of some kind of fruit juice that the replicator had offered her and turned her thoughts to other things. She opened up her own computer and tapped in a few commands.

"Losk to Elisk. Status is positive. Nobody suspects a thing."


	13. The League of Trinilon Part Three

D'Zira felt as if it had only been five minutes since she had got into bed. Although the sleep medication given to her by Doctor Davies had done its job insofar as she had actually slept, the feeling that it had only been a short nap did little to make her look forward to the new day with any real enthusiasm. However, given that she was the XO and not some sloppy junior member of crew, ignoring the alarm and rolling over for another fifteen minutes was out of the question. She got out of bed and drifted over to her bathroom to begin getting ready for what would no doubt be a long day. She peered at her reflection in the mirror. Now that she looked closely, she did look rather run down. Perhaps Doctor Davies was right; there was more weighing on her shoulders than she realised. She had barely had a moment to herself since she arrived on board.

The roster for that day put the start of her shift an hour before that of the captain. D'Zira quite liked those occasions, with their period of relative calm, where she prepared the ship and crew for the forthcoming day. It was one aspect of her current position that she enjoyed, and today was no different in that respect. After getting things underway, she made some additional notes into the ship's log, sitting down in the command chair as appropriate. Yet, no matter how many times she occupied the 'big chair' whilst in charge of the Bridge, she never felt quite comfortable in it, whether it was here on her current assignment or previously on the _Mallory_. Entering the Command track had not been her idea. She had enjoyed being Operations officer and would probably still be on the _Mallory_ had it not been for Captain Waterford's insistence that she 'widen her horizons', especially after she had initially failed to get on the Millennium Mission. D'Zira pursed her lips slightly as she looked to the viewscreen and its window to Jandrha turning serenely below them. She hadn't been keen in the first place, but if she had known that it would result in this quirk of fate…

She sighed quietly. A hasty farewell in the transporter room to her now former shipmates had been her unceremonious exit from the _Mallory_. At that point, not even Captain Waterford had known what awaited her at Starfleet Command. A coveted place on the Millennium Mission, the opening of a door that she had thought shut. And as a first officer, no less, posts fought for almost as much as the command positions themselves had been. Except in her case, where she had just happened to be 'the right person in the right place'. Well, the latter part of that phrase was true, at least, in her opinion.

"_Ready to dry run the nacelles, Commander_." Lieutenant Truman's voice snapped D'Zira out of her reverie. She hadn't even noticed the small holographic projection of the black-haired Englishman appear on the circular end to the bit of trimming between the command chairs.

"Proceed, Lieutenant," she replied.

"_Yes, ma'am_." The projection disappeared and D'Zira settled back into the chair. After a few moments came the dull thud and whine of the primary nacelles extending upwards and outwards to their full extent, like the wings of a bird. There then was another clunking noise as the secondary nacelles detached themselves from their position under their bigger cousins and stretched back and downwards. Except for the power needed to drive the mechanisms, the nacelles didn't have any life in them at the moment. If they had done at that moment, the _Genesis Millennia_ would have come to a spectacular end as she ploughed straight into the Jandrhys space station she was currently docked at. Normally the noise made by the movement of the nacelles was hidden underneath the hum of the engines and the clatter of general life aboard, but to D'Zira's ears, the sounds seemed to indicate that everything was working as Engineering put the nacelles through a standard series of test movements before returning them to their position of rest, tucked slightly above the main body of the starship, towards the stern. Seconds later, Truman contacted her again to say that, yes; everything was excellent as far as their propulsion systems were concerned.

Gradually, all departments reported back with clean bills of health. The ship was ready to go as soon as the captain gave the order. D'Zira sensed that he was making his way to the Bridge. He was going to be arriving a few minutes earlier than scheduled. She suspected that he wanted to use the extra time to get the usual start of shift items out of the way. _I suppose that he will also want to make sure that I've been a good little first officer and not broken his precious ship_. The snide thought unexpectedly escaped from the depths of her mind and she was thankful that there were no other telepaths currently present on the Bridge else they would have heard the little mental outburst without too much difficulty. She blamed her elevated levels of psilosynine for the slip. By the time Hurst arrived on the Bridge, she had re-established her self discipline and outwardly appeared her usual demure character to the point that not even the side effects of too little sleep and too much psilosynine reached the surface. She rose out of the chair and respectfully stepped aside for him.

"Captain," she acknowledged.

"Good morning, Commander," he answered, politely, if not with any real warmth. "What's our current status?" In her concise manner, D'Zira proceeded to report to him on the current status of the ship, answering any questions that he had without hesitation. Satisfied that everything seemed to be in place, Hurst sat back in his chair whilst D'Zira placed herself in the secondary seat.

"The Jandrhys will be joining us shortly, as planned," Hurst told his first officer. She merely nodded in response. He turned his attention to the rest of his crew.

"Ensign Tay, initiate undocking procedures with the Jandrhys station. Mr Orea, once we have been given clearance, take us out of the Jandrhys system on a bearing of…" – he checked his panel – "Ten mark three five nine." The orders given, the officers concerned proceeded to carry them out.

As the ship began to ease out of its temporary home at the Jandrhys station, the doors at the left of the Bridge swished open and out stepped Cerisi Erusk and Muir Losk. Losk was once again dressed in her uniform, whilst Erusk was wearing a simple pinafore-style dress with a pretty undershirt of a contrasting colour and a trim little jacket. She was shorter than Losk (although still taller than the average human female) and more softly spoken, her trade being that of diplomacy rather than leadership. Despite this, there was no question that in the current circumstances, Erusk was the senior Jandrhys representative of the two women. Losk deferred to her companion to take the lead and speak first.

"Captain Hurst. I see that we have arrived in good time," Erusk said, one of her four hands gesturing faintly towards the viewscreen, on which Jandrha was now sliding out of view as Orea piloted _Genesis_ onto the ordered heading.

"Yes," replied Hurst. "We're just about to leave the Jandrha system. Once we've cleared the heliopause, we'll enter slipstream and make our way to the capital of the Trinilon government. Please, take a seat." He indicated where the spare chairs had been pulled out of their hiding places. Erusk smiled in thanks and took a seat near Hurst. Losk declined the offer.

"I'd prefer to stand, if that is fine with you," she said, staying to one side of the command centre.

"Not a problem," Hurst replied, wondering if she really did prefer to stand, or if she just didn't want to sit near D'Zira, given that the two didn't exactly hit it off the previous day. He supposed that he didn't really care, so long as any bickering was kept off his bridge. And since he expected as a matter of course for both ladies to remain completely professional, as per their ranks – a Jandrhys Muir was roughly equivalent to the Starfleet rank of Captain, after all – he didn't foresee a problem there. He fixed his gaze onto the viewscreen and then onto the large frame of Lieutenant Commander Orea. Based on his physical form, the Khyern looked more suited to security rather than piloting. When on duty, Orea wore special covers over the end of his claws to prevent damage to the panels through which he steered the starship. Yet despite the size of his huge paws, he worked the helm console with surprising grace. Or, perhaps not so surprising once one got to know the Delta quadrant native a little better.

Unlike most felinoids, who tended to be lithe, graceful creatures, the Khyerns were a powerfully built race who had adapted to survive on an icy home world. The males tended to have long, sabre teeth which usually came down to just below the jaw line. Coupled with their physical size, they looked rather ferocious, and Orea was no exception in this case. However, in reality, the helmsman was a softly spoken individual, which did make him something of an exception to his species. For the Khyerns were territorial creatures, and had had a hard time in accepting that they were not alone in the galaxy, a discovery they made fifty years ago, in the year that Orea happened to be born. For his part, Orea found space fascinating and when he discovered the existence of the Federation and Starfleet, he was not hesitant in making the long trip from the Delta quadrant to the Alpha as soon as he was able. He resisted the insistence that he should take up a position in Security, eschewing it instead for piloting. He found it a calming activity, even when under pressure. Despite his physical abilities, he didn't have the heart – or the stomach – to be a security officer. Although he was more than capable of defending himself, or others if needs be, Orea was actually a bit of a softy. He'd rather be reading a book – he prided himself on being self-educated about a lot of things - than shooting at holograms with a phaser in a tactical training programme. Right now, he was perfectly happy to be sitting at his post.

"Passing through the heliopause now, Captain," he said in his rich baritone.

"Bring slipstream matrix online and prepare to activate," Hurst replied.

"Aye Captain." Orea tapped in the appropriate controls. His sensitive ears picked up the subtle changes in the noise of the ship's hybrid warp-slipstream drive as power was diverted to the matrix in readiness for the next phase of their journey.

"Matrix online."

"Activate slipstream drive." The generator nodules, which were embedded on the exterior hull, responded by exhibiting a dull magenta radiance, signalling that the fabric of space was about to be moulded into a slipstream corridor. Up on the Bridge, those present watched as a bluish glow erupted into a dazzling display of colour that quickly seemed to wash over the small Federation starship as she progressed into the corridor, instantly travelling distances that would have taken her days to cover even at maximum warp. As it was, the journey to the heart of the League of Trinilon would still take a good couple of hours. Seeing that they were safely on their way, Hurst stood.

"Whilst we're on our voyage, Emissary Erusk will explain in more detail to us about the League of Trinilon. If all of you could make your way to the meeting room…?" He led the way off the Bridge, the Jandrhys and his senior officers following behind him. They seated themselves at the large, oval table, with Erusk placing herself in the centre chair of one of the longer sides. A small object, similar to a padd, was in front of her, having already been tied into the computer system earlier by Tay. After a moment or so of finding the correct information, Erusk was ready to speak to them. She tapped a button on her notebook and an isomorphic projection sprang up from the middle of the table. The Jandrhys diplomat blinked slightly in surprise.

"Quite impressive," she said, her gaze directed at Tay. The Bajoran gave a small, embarrassed grin in response. Erusk turned to address the rest of the room.

"This is the centre seat of the League of Trinilon," she said, indicating the hovering three dimensional image.

"A space station?" Beckett asked, somewhat in disbelief.

"It is known as the Complex," Erusk explained. "Do not let the projection fool you, Lieutenant. It is not a mere space station." She pressed something on her notepad and the Complex grew bigger as the projection zoomed in. The Starfleet officers stared at the curious structure that seemed to loom above their heads. Truman thought that it looked for all the universe like a giant, metallic daffodil head. A slight incompatibility between the Jandrhys and Starfleet technology meant that the image was not as specific as it might have been, and the chief engineer found himself looking forward to being able to study the structure in more detail.

"The Complex," continued Erusk, "is the home of Trinilon power, both in terms of its Parliament, but also in terms of its space fleet and commerce. In short, everything in Trinilon space is controlled from the Complex, although each member world has a small administrative centre."

"Why build an artificial habitation in order to house the core of an interplanetary alliance?" Beckett wondered. "Surely they would be at more risk from attack – and suffer a higher number of casualties in such an attack?"

"No assault on the Complex has ever been successful," Erusk replied. "In fact, we know of at least two occasions where the perpetrators of hostile force against the Trinilon capital have been obliterated. As you can imagine, that is a fairly strong deterrent against those who oppose the League."

"We understand from information Muir Losk gave us, that the League is not exactly one big happy family," Hurst said.

"That is true. The League has grown quickly in recent years and has swallowed up a variety of worlds – the peaceful and the warlike, the generous and the misers, the advanced and the developing. There is much competition and jostling for favourable position, for unlike what I understand of your Federation, ideas and technology aren't always shared and distributed amongst the League of Trinilon members."

"Wouldn't they be stronger if their best ideas and resources were pooled?" Hurst asked.

"It's another way for those in charge to keep attention away from what's really going on," Losk spoke up, for the first time. "If there are members fighting amongst themselves, they tend to be too busy to think about attacking the Complex or the policies of the Trinilon Parliament."

"Is there a reason why they should be attacking the Complex or the ruling body?" D'Zira enquired.

"Trinilon is insidious," Losk replied, candidly. "They rarely use force in order to take over a planet. Instead, they gradually worm their way in by sweet talking a planet's government. Before the planet knows it, they're the latest member of the League."

"That's not quite how it happens," Erusk replied, a little hastily. Losk gave her fellow Jandrhys a slight sideways look, but let it pass. Erusk returned to her notepad. The projection of the Complex disappeared, and was instead replaced by an animated map representing the history of how the particular region of Andromeda that they were currently exploring had been divided up. The blue area representing Trinilon swelled rapidly, pushing aside or swallowing up its neighbours, until it was easily the dominant territory in the vicinity. Then the projection zoomed back in on the Complex.

"Interesting," said Beckett, who having already studied current data on the League, was intrigued at learning some history behind the facts and stats he had accumulated. "They appear to have come out of literally nowhere. There seems to be no home world preceding the Complex – there isn't even a solar system around the star that the Complex orbits."

"Perhaps that's the reason they built the thing there," Truman said. "No natives to upset."

"But where did they come from?" Beckett asked, looking at Erusk. "Who were the founders of the League?"

"We can't be certain, since early Trinilon history is a little hazy, but the general word and our intelligence would seem to suggest that there were four races involved in forming the League," Erusk answered. "They were the Virin, Sarebeth, Neuratons and Latak. This would be backed up by the fact that these worlds are roughly equal distances on the horizontal plane from the centre star, as you can see from the projection."

"So, if that's the case, who, or what, is Trinilon?" Hurst asked.

"Trinilon is the name given to the star that the Complex orbits," said Erusk. "It has come to be known as that because it is essentially the centre of the League. However, we have speculated that the word 'trinilon' may have a deeper historical context. But, what exactly that could be, again, we do not have enough information on the League's earliest times."

"People talk of Gods and monsters and strange events," said Losk, semi-seriously.

"Nearly all cultures have those sorts of things," Dupin said.

"I know. I do manage a space station after all," Losk replied, her tone pleasant yet laced with an air of superiority. "Yet, it is my experience also that myth tends to have basis in historical fact."

"There is much speculation about the League of Trinilon," Erusk agreed. "However, since our visit is not for historical or archaeological purposes, I must insist that we turn to more immediate matters." There was a murmur of agreement from those seated around the table. Erusk turned off the projection of the Complex and, as Muir Losk frequently did, folded one pair of hands on the table, leaving the other pair free to gesticulate as she talked.

"The Trinilon Parliament contains elected representatives from each of the member planets. They look after the general day to day running of the League. Trinilon is divided into political factions, of which there are several, but only three hold any real weight. Each of these factions has a leader, and it is these people who are eligible to be elected as First Minister. General elections are held every six years. Currently, Cubis Merl is First Minister. He is the leader of the Solana faction, the second biggest of the Trinilon political factions. He is halfway through his second term."

"What are his political leanings?" Hurst asked.

"Moderate," Erusk replied. "His party are continuing with the expansion of the League, but not at any cost. They are also concerned with trying to iron out some problems, such as what you encountered with the Taj'ik." She returned to her notepad. Up popped a projection of a burly male, who could have passed for human on a first glance. He had greying hair and brown eyes and a stern demeanour.

"This is First Minister Merl," Erusk said. "He is a Qixin. They have been a League member for a number of years. The Qixin command a strong presence within the League, even without the rest of the Solana faction."

"I remember Muir Losk saying that the Jandrhys have ties with the Qixin," said Hurst.

"Yes. Their home world is located close to one of the areas where Jandrhys territory overlaps with that of Trinilon space," Erusk replied. "We have traded with them for several decades now." Hurst nodded slowly.

"There's no hidden agenda here, is there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Deline Nuask mentioned that our cooperation in this matter would be helpful – I quote - 'given the nature of the balance of power between Jandrha and the League'," Hurst said. "With First Minister Merl being of Qixin origin…"

"I can assure you that there lie no conflicts of interest in this assignment," Erusk interrupted, her voice taking on a hard edge for the first time, whilst her antennae twitched slightly. "Muir Losk and I are here to assist you in dealing with the Trinilon Parliament. We are a neutral party in this instance."

"Emissary Erusk is correct, Captain," Losk said. "Our concerns bear no relation to the trade agreements between the Qixin and our home world."

"My apologies," Hurst said. "But you understand that I have to clarify certain points, both for myself and on behalf of my crew."

"Of course we do," Losk replied, with a slight smile and a bob of her head. Erusk also nodded her head in agreement.

"Are there any specific procedures that we should be aware of once we meet with representatives of the Trinilon Parliament?" D'Zira asked.

"Your meeting will be with First Minister Merl and several officials," Erusk said. "It should be a straightforward encounter. There are no ceremonies involved, or bureaucratic red tape. They will be polite towards you, but not overtly friendly. You are, after all, an unknown vessel with unknown intentions passing through their space."

"I hope that we are able to quickly allay their concerns," Hurst said.

"How likely is that though?" Beckett spoke up. "Neither the Nephellan or the Taj'ik seemed particularly interested in our side of the story. Okay, in this instance, we're going to be dealing with politicians rather than random ships far from home, but what's to say that the basic attitudes aren't going to be any different?" Muir Losk opened her mouth to speak, but Erusk got there first.

"I think that you have been unfortunate in your dealings with the League so far," she said. "You have only met two species out of eighty-seven. To judge the entire League on those individuals would be like asking Muir Losk or I to judge the entire Federation on our impressions of members of your crew."

"Fair point," Beckett agreed. "However, it's part of our job to be representative of the Federation."

"But that's not the remit of independent vessels," Hurst reminded the lieutenant. "I would say that the same is true here."

"Indeed it is, Captain," Erusk said. "Trinilon does have its own space fleet, however, it is a small operation and the majority of space vessels remain in the central and midsection of Trinilon territory. When we drop out of this slipstream, we will be greeted by a Trinilon fleet ship, who will escort us to the Complex."

"Well," Hurst said. "I hope that it all turns out to be as simple as it sounds."

"I can't foresee any problems for you," replied Erusk. "You will be in the heart of Trinilon space as invited visitors to the Parliament, not mixing it by yourselves with the inhabitants and opportunists of the frontier."

"Our government wouldn't have suggested that you come here if they believed that there would be an inherent danger to your ship and crew," Losk said, smiling charmingly. Hurst nodded in acceptance of their assurances. However, Beckett was more sceptical, as per his job.

"Captain, I would like to suggest that we have plans in place just in case things don't go all that smoothly."

"I would tend to agree," D'Zira said. Hurst didn't quite manage to hide a smile.

"I expected as much," he replied. "Lieutenant Beckett, you and Commander Orea will be accompanying myself, Muir Losk and Emissary Erusk to our meeting with First Minister Merl." Orea's eyes registered a look of pleased surprise, whilst Beckett folded his arms and looked satisfied. Dupin bit her lip slightly, in disappointment at not being included. D'Zira turned to Hurst.

"Sir, don't you think that it would be a good idea on this occasion to have me present?"

"No. I need you here on the ship, Commander," Hurst replied. "I think that Emissary Erusk will do a fine job in deciphering the intentions of the Trinilon politicians. Besides, I don't think that it would look good under the circumstances to bring a telepath along. It could send out the wrong signal."

"Understood, Captain," D'Zira replied, neutrally. Everybody seated around the table had their attention on the captain and first officer during the latter part of the conversation, and so nobody noticed the expression of mild alarm which had appeared in Losk's eyes at the mention of the word 'telepath'. By the time the conversation moved onto other matters, she looked as serene as she had beforehand, carefully paying as much attention as ever to the rest of the discussions going on within the room. But as soon as the meeting was finished and they all went temporarily separate ways, the Jandrhys woman turned her mind to the unexpected and potentially tricky problem that had appeared for her.

* * *

Hurst, meanwhile, had retreated to his ready room at the request of D'Zira, who had asked Beckett and Tay to come along as well. The captain sat behind his desk, and indicated for his subordinates to also be seated. 

"Why the impromptu meeting?" Hurst asked.

"I have a suggestion to put forward concerning the forthcoming meeting with the Trinilon First Minister, Captain," she replied. "Lieutenant Beckett and Ensign Tay may be able to help, which is why I have asked them to join us." Hurst looked to the other two men. Beckett appeared to shrug mentally, whilst Tay's hazel eyes showed bemusement. He turned his gaze back at D'Zira.

"Please enlighten us, Commander."

"I'm proposing use of a neural interlink," D'Zira said. "Beckett, you have had experience of using those, have you not?"

"Yes ma'am," Beckett replied. "As part of my tactical training at the Academy, I spent several weeks aboard a Starfleet heavy defence cruiser." Heavy defence cruisers were one of the few types of Federation vessels still permitted to have full neural interlink communications between members of crew, and also full neural interfaces with the computer systems. His brow furrowed slightly as he recalled the experience. "It was an interesting event, if nothing else."

"Have you ever been in a one-to-one neural link?"

"On two or three occasions," Beckett said.

"Were any of those people telepaths?" D'Zira asked him. Beckett raised an eyebrow, but the rest of his face remained impassive.

"No, Commander. I've never been in any kind of link with a telepath," he answered.

"Well, how would you feel about using a neural interlink with myself?" D'Zira asked. Before the lieutenant could answer, Hurst jumped in.

"Hold on a moment," he said. "Let's go back a few steps to 'neural interlink'. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Despite the assurances of Emissary Erusk, I believe that we should be very much erring on the side of caution, Captain. Whilst there is every chance the meeting, or meetings, shall pass without incident, on the other hand, there is a high risk of the situation becoming volatile. It would make sense if we employed something other than the standard communication between away team and ship," said D'Zira. "A neural interlink would provide a more secure and discreet method than either a combadge or open channel. It would provide good back up to the plans made earlier in the meeting room."

"It's a bit sneaky, isn't it?"

"I don't think so, Sir," Beckett said. "It's a valid means of communication to be used purely for feedback of the situation inside the Complex. It's not subterfuge."

"Hmm." Hurst considered the thought. He looked at D'Zira. "Why put yourself forward for this? Why not another officer who has more expertise with neural interlinks?"

"I am a telepath, and telepathy is still superior to any current artificial means of direct mind to mind communication. That gives me an advantage over any non-telepath, no matter how thoroughly trained they might be," D'Zira replied, matter-of-factly.

"A one-to-one neural link between a telepath and non-telepath is not unheard of," Tay spoke up. "But I would say that you would also need an artificial device, Commander, in order to boost your natural telepathy over greater distances."

"I understand, Ensign," she said.

"Modifying a normal neuro-com implant shouldn't be hard," the young Bajoran mused, his mind already racing ahead. "General specifications for neuro-com implants exist for each species, even the naturally telepathic ones. It would just be a case of modifying either the Betazoid or the Vulcan specs, depending on your…" He trailed off and looked bashfully at the other three officers. "Depending on whether or not we are proceeding with the idea." Hurst hid his amusement at his Ops officer by instead concentrating on D'Zira's initial suggestion. He didn't particularly like it, but if both she and Beckett were willing volunteers… He supposed that there wasn't really any harm in it. And it worked both ways; he could instantly find out at any time what was happening back on the ship, if anything. He looked at Beckett.

"Would you be happy to go along with the commander's idea?"

"I've no objection, sir," the security chief replied, almost cheerfully.

"Barlis, would you be able to have the implants ready before we drop out of slipstream?"

"Yes, Captain, if I start right away," the ensign replied.

"Good. Go and prepare them, then," Hurst told him. Tay nodded, and stood.

"Aye, sir." He made to leave, but D'Zira stopped him.

"If I may say so, I think we should keep this from the Jandrhys," she said.

"For what reason?" Hurst asked, the slightest hint of a frown appearing on his face.

"If it remains an unknown for them, then they cannot tell anybody else about it," the commander replied.

"They are not the enemy, Commander."

"No, they are not," D'Zira agreed. "To be more specific, Emissary Erusk is not a problem. Muir Losk, however, could well be. She has characteristics that do not make her completely trustworthy." Hurst wished that they had the time to debate the point, but since they did not, he made a quick decision.

"Fair enough. We'll keep this between us – for the time being. I suggest that you all go and get yourselves sorted out with the implants now." His officers acknowledged this, and filed out of the room, D'Zira pausing at the door.

"Captain, what I said about Muir Losk just now was not motivated by personal feelings," she said.

"I didn't say that it was," he replied.

"Nevertheless, I…" She trailed off into nothingness, suddenly looking completely lost. A moment later, she gave a slight shake of her head, and lightly placed a hand on the doorframe to steady herself.

"What's the matter?" Hurst asked, rising from behind his desk.

"It's nothing, sir."

"You looked like you were about to faint," he replied, approaching her. "Maybe you should sit down and take a moment."

"I'm fine, thank you, Captain. I should join the others. It will take time for Tay to calibrate the neuro-com implant for my mind. He will need my assistance."

"Perhaps it's not such a good idea if you're not a hundred percent," Hurst said.

"The implants and interlink will be administered under the watch of Doctor Davies, as per the regulations on such matters," D'Zira pointed out.

"That's true," he admitted. She assumed that she was free to go and turned to leave.

"Ellenabi." The sound of her name made her pause, and she looked back at the captain. "Are you sure that everything's okay?" he asked her, for once sounding something other than indifferent or mildly annoyed towards her. She held her head up and calmly met his gaze.

"Yes, Captain," she replied. "Everything's fine."


	14. The League of Trinilon Part Four

"No, everything is not fine. I think that you are being extremely foolhardy in proceeding with this idea given your current circumstances." Doctor Davies shook his head in disbelief.

"The safety of the captain and the others visiting the Complex is more important than my personal issues," D'Zira argued.

"Normally, that's true," Davies agreed. "However, I'm quite sure that the captain wouldn't be best pleased to return from his excursion and find his first officer a quivering, useless wreck because she needlessly fried her brain. Also, let's not forget that your being a telepath increases the risk of Lieutenant Beckett receiving psychic backlash through the link."

"Lieutenant Beckett is well aware of the potential risks and side effects associated with neural interlinks. I would not have brought the subject up with him otherwise, nor would I have suggested the idea at all if I thought that there would be serious repercussions for anyone involved," D'Zira answered, unperturbed. "You will be monitoring both of us at all times." Davies looked at her, sternly.

"I do have the power to relieve you of duty, Commander."

"I know, Doctor. However, I would hope that that would be a last resort," she said. He harrumphed slightly.

"So it would be. I will, however, be making a formal objection in my medical log."

"You concerns are noted, Doctor." There was a slight pause.

"Well, let's go and wire you and Mr Beckett together, then," said Davies, sounding more light-hearted than he actually felt. The two of them made their way out of the doctor's office, and over to where Beckett and Tay were. Beckett was leaning against a bio bed, watching Tay do some last minute preparation work via a portable laboratory. On a screen, a highly magnified image showed a section of a neuro-com implant and several nanites making adjustments to the circuitry, as instructed by Tay. Doctor Davies checked the configuration of both implants. After a few more tweaks, they were ready to be fitted.

"Which one are we doing first?" Davies asked Tay.

"Ewan, since he'll be the simple one," Tay replied, with a deliberate emphasis on 'simple'. Beckett huffed in feigned hurt.

"It's not my fault I grew up on a backwater Beta quadrant colony," he said.

"Well, that explains a lot," Davies commented. Tay grinned.

"The fact that he's the chief of security didn't give it away, Doctor? Everyone knows that you don't need a lot of brain for that job."

"And Ops does?" Beckett retorted, an eyebrow arched. D'Zira put a stop to the frivolities.

"May I remind you, gentlemen, that we are short on time," she said, curtly. Three mildly contrite faces looked back at her. Davies gestured towards a corner of sickbay where Nurse Amber Ladejo had done the preparation work for the two nanosurgery procedures and was now waiting patiently in order to assist the doctor.

"If you'll go and take a seat, please, Lieutenant," Davies said.

"Sure." Beckett obediently crossed the room and sat in the medical chair. He returned Nurse Ladejo's smile.

"Is this the bit where you strap me down?" he asked her.

"Tempting, but I don't think Karen would approve of me doing that to you," she replied with a mischievous expression that made her look more Klingon than usual. Beckett gave her a sideways look.

"How do you know about that?" Ladejo's grin widened.

"Oh, you know how it is. I know someone who knows someone… However, the word out of Jandrha was that it was over before it really began, so I'm confused. Care to enlighten me?"

"Not particularly," smiled Beckett, genially. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the point of view, Doctor Davies appeared at their side, carrying a small tray, which contained the neuro-com implant that had been calibrated for the security chief. Beckett eyed the tray, whilst the chair he was sat in was adjusted for the ease of surgery. Since he'd used interlinks before, he knew the basic procedure. After the implant was placed inside his skull, special medical nanites would help phase the device into his brain and then tune it into his thought patterns. Thanks to technology that converted his thoughts into similar electro impulses seen in natural telepaths, he would then have the power to silently communicate at will with another person equipped with a neuro-com implant. With practice, the most adept users could control a neuro-com implant with as much ease as a natural telepath controlled their own projection and reception of thoughts.

The basis of the technology for modern neural interlinks had been in Federation hands in some form or another since the mid 2400s. As with much of the technological advances made during the late 24th and early to mid 25th centuries, the roots of the neural interlink lay in the goldmine of information brought home by the much vaunted USS _Voyager_ after her seven year sojourn across the galaxy from her stranding in the Delta quadrant. It had taken literally decades for the _Voyager_ to be fully mined for her secrets, and for some of those secrets to be fully understood and then declassified so that they could be put to practical, everyday use. Whilst the _Voyager_ herself eventually passed into the annals of history, myth and legend, her legacy lived on and her presence was still felt hundreds of years later at the turn of the millennium. The main route taken by space faring vessels between the Alpha and Delta quadrants was called the Voyager Corridor, and many starbases and colonies within the Federation Delta quadrant Alliance bore the names of the _Voyager_'s crew. And of course, there were items of modern technology that owed much to the ancient Intrepid-class starship and her crew.

In one way or another, the Borg had influenced a good proportion of what the _Voyager_ brought back home to the Federation. This was mainly due to the presence of the rehabilitated Annika Hansen, a.k.a. Seven of Nine, who retained the communal knowledge of the Borg long after her disconnection from the Collective. Given the recent skirmishes with the Borg, Federation intelligence was mostly interested at first in dissecting the technology that was directly Borg. They soon realised, as the crew of the _Voyager_ had, that some Borg technology could be useful in advancing the Federation – and Starfleet's - own needs. The precursors to both the neural interlink and neural interface were two such things to come out of this.

The interlink was developed initially for intelligence purposes, whilst the interface was seen as having more value in combat situations. Over the years, aspects of both technologies gradually filtered through to day to day life within the Federation, and by the time the 27th century was well underway, major Starfleet ships had become strange places. Whole crews would be wired together through the ship's communications system, and where there had once been banks of displays, there were only nearly bare surfaces with minimal readouts, until someone came along and activated a console to life with a single thought. By that time, the Borg were just a memory, thanks to something Federation analysts called the Prophecy virus, and few Starfleet officers saw the irony of technology making them take on some eerily similar characteristics to the once major threat of the Federation's very existence.

However, the potential for abuse of such integrated communications systems had been vastly underestimated, particularly in regards to the neural interlink. Not only did enemies of the Federation find and exploit the flaws and weaknesses caused by having flesh and machine so closely tied in the operations of starships and starbases, but some Starfleet officers themselves found ways to take advantage of their fellow crewmates. Bullying and blackmail became rife, cases of mind-rape escalated, and on some ships, thinly disguised lines were drawn between natural and non-telepaths. Addiction to a neural interlink was not unheard of. Refusing or breaking an interlink would get one stigmatised as someone who had something to hide. Starfleet, once the pride and embodiment of the Federation's ideals, became a corrupt mess and could barely prevent the internal strife which gripped the planetary alliance in the 28th century from turning into a full blown civil war. Adding to Starfleet's woes were several scandals, the most infamous of which was the case of the USS _Marybeth_, a sordid tale that caused such an impact it was still referenced in popular culture more than two hundred years later. For example, 'The Cohen Manoeuvre' or 'pulling a Cohen' referred to a captain suspected by his or her crew of having sexual relations with the first officer.

After the _Marybeth_ scandal, the Federation Council knew that as well as putting itself in order once again, the same also applied to its military arm. Technology which involved linking the mind of a user to either another being or a machine had understandably caused great apprehension amongst most people. Of course, it had also clearly become a key problem area within Starfleet and so it was back to basics in some areas of starship design and officer training. Strict sanctions were imposed on the use of neural tech, and only certain specialist ships and areas were allowed to keep full neural interlink and interface systems, and in turn, they tended to be staffed by highly trained people who underwent rigorous testing. Most of the regulations drafted back then were still in use today. Individual or small group neural interlinks, such as the one about to be used by Beckett and D'Zira, were permitted for short periods of time and on starships had to be authorised by the captain, the chief medical officer and a third senior officer.

For his part, Beckett had first encountered the neural interlink whilst studying an intensive tactical course as part of his fourth year at the Academy. He and seven other cadets were holed up in a small vessel for a month, drifting around the asteroid belt of the Sol system with minimal power. At first, being able to chat to each other by mere thought had held great novelty value, and much of the first day or so had been spent messing around and generally being juvenile. However, by the end of the month, some of them were literally at each other's throats, the cramped conditions and the feeling of never quite having one's mind to oneself taking its toll. That and the fact random assaults were launched upon them from drone ships controlled from afar by Academy instructors. The whole exercise had been as much about being in difficult circumstances and under pressure as it had been about learning how to use a new method of communication.

Beckett had been fairly adept at using the device, and although it had been a while since he had last been in a neural interlink, he was certain that he'd quickly pick the skills up again. He rested patiently as Doctor Davies and Nurse Ladejo worked on him. He was glad that they had modern medical technology to hand, so they didn't have to shave off large patches of his dark blonde hair or hack away chunks of his cranium in order to prod away at his brain. He didn't feel a thing as the neuro-com implant was phased into place. In fact, the first he'd be physically aware of having the implant would be when D'Zira had been fitted with hers and the link activated. Then he'd feel an odd tingle permeating the back of his mind – a feeling that others had described as having somebody constantly looking over your shoulder. Not everybody could get used to it, but Beckett found that it didn't bother him that much, perhaps because it was second nature to him to think that there _was_ someone looking over his shoulder.

After some minutes, the procedure was over, and it was D'Zira's turn to sit in the chair. Beckett seated himself on a nearby bio-bed. It would take longer to fit D'Zira with her implant. This was because she was both a natural telepath and a hybrid and the Vulcan specification neuro-com implant Davies had suggested would need extra tweaking to accommodate this fact. Beckett looked over towards D'Zira. The only major reservation he had about this venture was that he had never shared an interlink with a telepath before, and one who happened to be half Vulcan and half Betazoid, a combination which Beckett would have thought made for a guaranteed nutcase until he had met her. Still, neural interlinks could be revealing no matter how much you tried to keep your thoughts under control. He only had to think of Karen Tennison to be reminded of that. Well, at least that had been a mutual thing. It could have been rather awkward on that cramped little vessel otherwise, especially since they had been friends for a while. He wondered how much of his inner thoughts D'Zira would pick up, given the direct connection between their minds. He knew that she wouldn't abuse the interlink, but she'd had an awful lot more experience in deciphering even the smallest thought or feeling…

_'Lieutenant, if I wished to know every last detail regarding you and your life, I wouldn't need a neural interlink in order to get that information.'_

Beckett jumped slightly at the unexpected contact. His mind had drifted off enough that he hadn't noticed the telltale signs of the interlink becoming active. He looked at D'Zira, who visibly appeared less amused than she had sounded in his head, and then noticed Tay standing expectantly with a tricorder, obviously waiting for him to test the interlink out from his end. He took a moment to get his brain into gear and then activated the neuro-com implant by simply thinking _send_. After a while, the commands for using the interlink would become almost subconscious; for now though, he felt as if he were learning to ride a bike again.

_'I know, Ma'am. I was just… Erm, I was just…thinking.'_ It wasn't the most eloquent thing he'd ever come out with, and he found himself fighting to stop the words coming out of his mouth rather than projecting them through mere thought. Despite the ungainliness of his effort, he appeared to have been successful, for the commander tilted her head slightly and quirked an eyebrow, whilst Tay was nodding as he studied his tricorder.

"Sending and receiving seems to be okay," he said. "Let me just tweak the conversion matrix a little..." He picked up a small tool and went first to D'Zira and then to Beckett. Satisfied, he stood back and allowed Doctor Davies to run his own checks. After thoroughly examining the readouts on the sickbay monitors, he gave a satisfied nod.

"Neither of you are showing any ill effects – so far," he said. "I'll tell you now though; the first signs of trouble, and I'm having the plug pulled, no matter what else might be happening at the time." The doctor looked meaningfully at D'Zira in particular.

"Once we have arrived at our destination, Doctor, you are free to make your way to the bridge at your own discretion," she said, before turning to Beckett and Tay. "We should return to the bridge now, in order to be ready for our arrival."

"Yes, ma'am," said Tay. He began to gather up his tools and other items belonging to the portable lab, and started to pack them away. D'Zira and Beckett left ahead of him.

'_I think, Lieutenant, that we should communicate like this from now on – except for direct orders on the bridge - in order to be up to speed on the use of the interlink_.'

'_I agree, Ma'am_.'

'_Are you feeling any noticeable differences from your previous experiences with neural interlinks?_'

'_It does seem to be stronger than interlinks I shared with non-telepaths – but then again, it's been several years, so it could just be my imagination._' They reached a turbolift and stepped in, D'Zira giving the order for the 'lift to take them to the bridge.

'_You should be aware of showing expression whilst corresponding this way_,' D'Zira pointed out. '_Obviously, in conversation like this it does not matter; however, it will do no good to pull faces in the middle of a meeting_.'

'_I'll be careful once we're there, Commander_,' Beckett replied. '_I did train with interlinks in order for the possibility of use in covert operations, after all._'

'_So it says in your file_,' she thought back. There was a pause.

'_May I ask you a personal question, Ma'am?_'

'_You may._'

'_Just curiosity, really; do you prefer telepathy or speech?_'

'_I have never given the matter much thought, to be honest. Both are completely normal forms of communication to me._' She looked up at Beckett. '_Though I admit it is somewhat refreshing to be able to converse like this._' Beckett smiled down at her.

'_I'm pleased to oblige, Ma'am._' The 'lift stopped and the doors opened, allowing the two officers to step onto the bridge. They walked across to their usual positions of work; D'Zira to her chair and Beckett to the tactical station behind the command centre. Hurst leaned towards his first officer.

"Was it successful?"

"It appears so, Captain."

"No ill effects?"

"Doctor Davies said that we are both fine," D'Zira assured him. He looked at her for a longer than usual moment before nodding and glancing back in Beckett's direction, as if expecting to see some sort of tether leading from the forehead of the security chief into the back of the first officer's head. The Jandrhys rejoined them just then. However, this time Emissary Erusk was accompanied by Muir Losk's assistant, Gerume. By human standards, the male Jandrhys was a nice enough looking man, being slim of build, fine-featured and sandy haired. However, standing next to a female counterpart, he looked positively dowdy. He obediently stood slightly behind Erusk, who once again seated herself next to Hurst.

"Muir Losk sends her apologies, Captain," she said. "She is not feeling well, so Gerume will be standing in for her for the time being."

"I'm sorry to hear that," replied Hurst. "Does she require a doctor?"

"No, no. It's only a minor complaint, which should clear up by itself," Erusk told him. "Please don't concern yourself on Amallia's behalf." Hurst accepted her reassurance and moved onto other matters.

"We should be at our destination in a few minutes," he said to her.

"This slipstream drive of yours is not as efficient as our coaxial warp, but it is an effective means of propulsion," the diplomat commented. Hurst smiled to himself as he thought of the quantum transwarp drive tucked away in the main engineering section.

"The technology has served us well for a few centuries now," he replied.

"I'm sure," Erusk said. She tilted her head slightly. "Though, I'm surprised that you've not ventured into this part of the galaxy before, given your means of interstellar travel at faster than standard warp speeds. From what I understand, you've had the capability of slipstream propulsion for around two hundred years longer than we Jandrhys have possessed coaxial warp."

"It's a big galaxy," Hurst smiled at her.

"Indeed it is," Erusk agreed, pleasantly. The doors to their left opened, and Tay entered the bridge. He acknowledged the captain with a small nod of his head as he made his way to Ops. With Lieutenant Truman also on the bridge, at the engineering station, almost the full complement of senior staff was present. Everyone settled down in anticipation of what was going to happen next.

"Approaching slipstream terminus coordinates," Orea announced.

"Prepare for exit of slipstream corridor and re-entry into normal space," Hurst said.

"Aye, Captain." There was a sort of pause, and then everyone felt a mild tug at their stomachs as the slipstream dispersed and the ship dropped into normal space. The view screen showed a few patches of stars, and the telltale colourful wisps of a nebula, but not much else.

"Picking up a vessel one hundred and fifty kilometres off port," Tay reported. "They're hailing us, sir."

"Put them on screen, Ensign." Hurst stood up as the image in front of him changed from that of outer space to the bridge of the neighbouring starship. In the background, several people, apparently from at least three different species, could be seen going about their business. The commander of the other vessel filled most of the screen, and appeared to have a different planet of origin from the members of his crew seen milling about behind him. He was somewhat reedy in build, a feature accentuated by his long face, which in turn was accentuated by his long, black moustache. His skin was a pale blue-grey, whilst his eyes were green. He opened the dialogue between the two ships, twizzling the end of the right side of his moustache as he talked, and sounding utterly laid back.

"I'm Commander Proff of the Trinilon Stellar Fleet. I'm assuming by the fact you have Jandrhys aboard your vessel, that you're the guests we're going to be escorting to the Complex?"

"Yes, we are. I'm Captain Hurst…"

"Of the _Genesis Millennia_, a starship from an alliance known as the Federation," Proff interrupted, with a smile. "Yes, we've got all that information."

"Right. Well, how do you wish for us to proceed?" Hurst asked, matching the apparent geniality of Commander Proff.

"Just follow us, Captain. Maintain a distance of ten kilometres until we are within the orbital perimeter. We will then guide you into the hanger where you will be berthed for your duration with us."

"What do we do once we've docked?" Hurst asked.

"You'll be informed," Proff replied, casually.

"I'd like some more information about what to expect, before we enter a closed port," said Hurst. Emissary Erusk had already given him an outline of this, but he wished to have matters confirmed directly from a Trinilon source. Proff twirled a finger around the left part of his moustache.

"If you insist. There's nothing to it, really, just some standard procedures that are used for all visitors to the Complex. For security purposes, your ship will be scanned for potential hazards, and logged. A request will be made for a complete crew manifest, plus any extra passengers that you may be carrying. Details of who will be disembarking from your ship will also be necessary. You will also be required to send Administration a copy of all data logs made during your time in Trinilon space."

"Thank you," Hurst said. "We shall have the required information ready in advance."

"That's very considerate of you," Proff told him. "We'll give you further instruction if and when necessary."

"Lead the way, then, Commander," said Hurst. Proff tugged once more on his moustache and smiled, before the view screen returned to showing the wispy nebula. Hurst returned to his chair, ordering Orea to ensure that they maintained a ten kilometre distance as Proff had requested, before turning to Erusk.

"Are all commanding officers in the Trinilon fleet so easygoing?"

"I'm afraid that this is my first encounter with the fleet as well, Captain," Erusk replied. "This is as much a voyage of discovery for me as it is for you." Hurst turned to D'Zira.

"Do you think there's going to be any trouble?"

"No, not at this point in time," she replied, calmly. He thought for a moment that she appeared to be caught off-guard by the question, but then dismissed it as his imagination. Feeling satisfied, he decided to sit back and enjoy the ride to the Complex.

The view screen showed the Trinilon vessel to the upper right of the image. Around them, the nebula grew steadily thicker as the two starships progressed deeper into the interstellar cloud. After several minutes, the puffy wisps thinned out once again to reveal a distant yet dominant star, which grew bigger all the time as the _Genesis Millennia_ followed their guide towards the absolute power core of the League of Trinilon. Initially, there was no sign of the Complex. Relative to their position, the artificial satellite was currently in orbit on the opposite side of its sun. They continued to travel inwards, adjusting their course by making a small turn in order to bring them on a direct trajectory to the Complex. Other ships of varying configurations occasionally flickered in and out of view as they traversed the region but despite this, there still seemed to be no sign of their destination, and if it hadn't been for the presence of Erusk and the sensor readings, Hurst would have been having serious doubts as to the validity of their reasons for being in this area of the alien galaxy.

And then…

"My God." Hurst stood up, as did D'Zira. For once, the two of them were in perfect unison as they stepped down into the space between the command chairs and the helm in order to stare closer at the image in front of them. Even the Jandrhys seemed in awe, and the silent consensus on the bridge was that the captain spoke for all of them, as all eyes focused solely on the view screen and the object which had just emerged from behind the limb of the star it was tethered to.

To say that the Complex was big was something of an understatement. To say that it was huge was still an understatement. The structure was colossal, dozens of kilometres from one tip to another and countless floors thick. Of course, they had read the statistics and at their fingertips were current sensor readouts, but that still somehow did not prepare anyone for the extraordinary visual sight which had greeted them. The Complex became silhouetted against the sun, appearing as an enormous black blot on the yellowish disc as the starships and the space station moved relative to one another. When the angle changed again, due to the continued motion, rays of light streamed between the giant sections of the structure, the shape of which had caused Truman to earlier think of a daffodil. The Complex certainly had the organic, simplistic beauty of such a flower, yet at the same time it easily managed to be menacing, something which was not just due to its size. Strange shadows seemed to glide across the metallic surface, contrasting with the bright, unfiltered, continuous sunlight. Indeed, the structure was so large that Dupin seriously wondered if they actually had seasons of a sort. It put some moons to shame.

'_That's certainly not a mere space station_,' Beckett imparted to D'Zira, in reference to his earlier words with Erusk. He found himself unwilling to break the silence which pervaded the bridge, yet needed to say something and was glad of the interlink that he now shared with his senior officer.

'_Quite accurate, Lieutenant_,' she replied, still with her eyes completely focused in front of her. '_I can see why it has never been conquered._' Beckett remembered his tactical board.

'_As well as size, they've got some pretty heavy defences – cannons, energy arrays, some things that I can't yet identify,_' he told her. '_I hope that we can remain on friendly terms with them._'

'_Indeed, so do I_. _How do the sensor readings compare to the information we already have?_'

'_Nothing anomalous, so far.__ There's no sign of any hostile intent from the other ships in the area, either. Seems to be business as usual for them.'_ He shook his head almost imperceptibly. '_Ma'am… I don't like this. Something doesn't feel right about the whole thing_.'

'_What do you base that on?_'

'_Good old fashioned gut feelings_.'

'_I'm afraid we're going to need more than hunches, Ewan_.'

'_I know, Ma'am_.' He glanced up and noticed that Hurst was still standing next to her, oblivious to the silent conversation as he continued to study the view screen. He suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable. He knew that there were tensions between the captain and first officer, and a part of him felt as if he had somehow sided with D'Zira, by sharing his unease telepathically with her instead of vocally with Hurst. Beckett shoved the feeling away, deeming it to be irrational. One of his recent concerns had been that, if the rift between Hurst and D'Zira should continue to grow, then so the crew themselves could eventually be divided. He considered himself to be both perceptive and a few steps ahead of the game by keeping a finger on the pulse of the crew.

"People tell you things if they think you're okay," he once said to somebody. "They don't tell you things if they think you're a bit of a bastard." He knew that some of the other senior officers had already chosen which side of the line their sympathies lay. Personally, he didn't particularly relish the thought of one day perhaps being forced to make a choice. _Damn the pair of them_, an annoyed corner of his conscience said. _They shouldn't even be making me feel as if I'm somehow taking sides through what I choose to do_. He looked back towards the view screen and its display of the Complex, which was now close enough to test the zooming ability of the imaging scanners. He really hoped that his gut was wrong, and that they weren't about to become akin to an insect in a Venus fly trap.

The orbital perimeter zone was still several dozen kilometres from the Complex, but it was there that the _Genesis Millennia_ officially entered the domain of the Trinilon Parliament. As promised, Commander Proff contacted them again to give them further orders for following them into dock. Now that they were almost on top of the Complex, they could make out the finer architectural details – individual windows, beams, hanger and cargo doors and even intricate patterns which were possibly inscriptions of some kind. It served as a reminder of just how small the enclosed community aboard the Innovation-class starship really was, especially when they followed Proff's vessel underneath one of the 'petals' of the Complex and the yawning entrance of their designated hanger bay appeared before them. Both ships seemed to be literally engulfed as they entered the structure, something which did little to dispel Beckett's thoughts about feeling like an insect meeting its doom. Once inside, beacons clearly marked where the ship was to berth, about halfway along the left hand side of the hanger and amongst the second tier of already-docked space faring vessels, which appeared to be an interesting collection, representing as-yet unseen aliens.

The anxious anticipation on the bridge could be almost heard as orders were quietly given and carried out as the ship came in to rest. Dull, distant clunks associated with docking and the noise of the engines finally powering down signified the end of their journey – for the time being. The League of Trinilon now felt tangible rather than a distant threat. A chirping noise interrupted the proceedings on the bridge and made everyone start slightly in surprise.

"You've got an incoming transmission, Ensign," Hurst reminded his Ops officer, as the chirping went unanswered.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry Sir," swallowed Tay, tearing his attention away from a systems information board and instead concentrating on his communications board. Across the bridge, Dupin rolled her eyes. Nobody noticed her display of mild chagrin, and so Tay continued uninterrupted. "It's Commander Proff, Captain."

"Put him on, then," Hurst replied. A moment later, Proff's pale, blue-grey visage was displayed at the front of the bridge.

"Welcome to the Complex, Captain Hurst," he said, amiably. "I trust that you have liaised with our administration department, as discussed?"

"Already done, Commander," Hurst told him. Proff smiled, and once again tugged on his moustache.

"Efficiency. Always nice to see," he said. "Well, I hope that you enjoy your time within the Complex and the hospitality of our government."

"I've heard that it should be interesting," Hurst commented.

"Quite so," Proff agreed. "Our government very much likes meeting previously unknown peoples."

"As does ours," replied Hurst. Proff emitted what sounded like an amused snort.

"Well, I'm afraid we must part company now."

"Thank you for your time," Hurst acknowledged. Proff inclined his thin head out of respect and then disappeared off the screen, which returned to showing a rather boring industrial view of a grey wall built from an unidentifiable material, and various bits of piping and struts. Erusk stood.

"I suggest, Captain, that we do not keep our hosts waiting too long," she said to Hurst.

"I agree. Since everything's been cleared, I see no reason why we shouldn't go now." The entire crew had been invited to disembark, but the captain had declined the invitation for the time being, until he was happy with what it was they were dealing with. Still, he didn't assume that keeping everyone holed up on the ship meant complete safety, and as the small group made their way to the docking port, he hung back slightly in order to go over a list of instructions that he had left for his first officer, including a point about communication.

"Remember, we contact you, not the other way around. Unless there is an emergency. In any case, your duty is first to the crew aboard the ship." Fortunately for her, they ran out of corridor at that point, and Hurst had to take his place with Erusk and the others. Watched by D'Zira from the docking port entrance, the group of five left the comfort of the _Genesis Millennia_ behind to face together the great unknown of the Complex.

_To be continued..._


End file.
